My road to redemption
by Roses-are-red-so-are-lassos
Summary: Times are hard between Erik and Christine, after a terrible mistake on her behalf. This is her road to redemption. This is her chance to show Erik what true love is.
1. Chapter 1

"I've got butterflies in my stomach." I whispered nervously to myself, clutching my stomach in anticipation.

"Well then, you probably shouldn't have eaten all of those caterpillars then, hmmm?" A mocking voice replied, resonating from the golden framed mirror that was fixated on my wall. I turned and gave the voice a withering look, unimpressed with his poor joke.

"You are so funny sometimes I can barely contain myself." I muttered dryly, turning back to dressing table mirror to fix a piece of hair that had just tumbled loose. Erik gave a humoured snort before he stepped out from the tunnel and walked towards me.

"Why so nervous, my rose?" He murmured, stopping a few feet behind me so that there was no risk of touching me. I did not know why he did this, but I suppose he had lost a little trust from the debacle I had created all those nights ago in his lair. I didn't blame him at all if that was why.

"Because," I started, looking over my shoulder at his concerned, masked face, "What if I make a fool of myself? What if I bring the Opera Populaire to ruin?" Again he snorted, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You are talking nonsense and you know it. My dear, you are perfection itself. If anything, you will make the Opera rise back to the heights where it used to belong." I blushed at his overly kind words and smoothed down the creases on my dress.

"You are too kind."

"I am merely telling the truth." He replied, unhooking his pocket watch from his waistcoat, "And I do believe if you don't hurry up, you will miss your cue." Sure enough, one of the stage hands knocked on my door informing me I had five minutes and I swallowed thickly.

"Goodness." I heard myself murmur as my feet took me over to the door. Before I left, I smiled at my dear friend but he was staring at the floor sadly and whilst I wanted to stay and asked him what was wrong, I knew I could not be late.

"Erik," I said softly, catching his attention so that his golden eyes were fixated on my ocean blue ones, "Thank you. For everything. I really do appreciate it." He merely nodded and gave me a smile before disappearing back through the mirror. I sighed heavily, cursing my self for making that terrible mistake all those nights ago. I wondered had I not done it then things may have been different between us. But then, I also deduced that had I not, we would be stuck in a friendship that would have been awkward and not real, for the mask would have always been a barrier that needed to be overcome. This... this felt much more raw and real, this felt like a start of something exciting between us though I knew I would have to beg on my knees for his full forgiveness. I must make it up to him, and when I got to my position in the wings, I straightened my back, lifted my head with pride, and walked on with a purpose and sang with such a passion and gusto that I even surprised my self. It was all for him though. This was my road to redemption. I only hope he would accept it.

 ***A/N all rights go to Gaston Leroux etc, I do not own any of the characters (Unfortunately!) Eeek! First fanfic! Taken a lot of courage for me to publish this! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2

I got back to my dressing room and felt a surge of exhilaration wash over me, my room already overflowing with bouquets of flowers, though the scent of them all together was somewhat sickly. The standing ovation was still replaying through my mind, like a wave crashing onto the shore and I was surprised that I hadn't collapsed there and then. The first thing I did was place the bouquet I currently clutched to my breast on my bureau before getting out of my ghastly costume that pinched at my skin. When I was dressed in a loose day dress, I went to my dressing table mirror to sort out my hair and makeup. That's when I noticed a single red rose placed in the centre of the table, void of thorns and finished off the softest black ribbon tied around the stem. Only one person came to my mind when I looked at it. Erik.

"Erik? Are you there? You can come out now. I'm nearly finished." There no was reply. Before I could go check the mirror myself, I was interrupted by a knock on the door. It was Raoul De Chagny. I could barely suppress the groan of dismay when I saw his bright, sunny face dance in to my view.

"Christine! My, weren't you marvellous? You certainly have grown a set of lungs since we were children."

"Dutiful practice is the key, Monsieur De Chagny. How can I be of assistance?"

"Please, call me Raoul. I think we have far surpassed formal greetings by now. And as to why I am here... I want to take you out for dinner. No excuses this time." He warned playfully, wagging his finger in front of my face like I was some disobedient child. I groaned mentally, knowing that I could not keep putting him off. Besides, Erik had already turned up and not stuck around, so I supposed he did not want my company that night. Perhaps I hadn't done a good job after all.

"Yes. Ok, I'd like that. Let me just get my cloak." I had never seen a more happier man than Raoul at that moment. If possible, he seemed to grin like the Cheshire Cat as we traversed through the busy corridors, showing me off on his arm like I was some trophy prize. I did not like that. Of course, Raoul took me to the most expensive and poshest establishment Paris could offer and I felt like some lowly peasant in the presence of many high status Parisians.

"So Christine, tell me, what have you been up to?" He asked as soon as we were seated. I noticed he sat like a regal king, his back ramrod straight and his chest puffed out with pride. I tried to match his stature.

"Just recently or since we last met?" He chuckled.

"I know what you've been doing recently. I meant since Perros." I was afraid he would say that. My time since Perros had not been the fondest or the easiest time for me.  
"Oh... nothing exciting. Travelled around for a bit. Ended up at the Opera... I've been there since I was eleven."

"You've been there all this time?" He furrowed his brow in confusion, "But what about your father...?" Even after all this time I still felt the tears prick the corner of my eyes and my throat turned to the texture of sandpaper.

"He... He died when I was eleven. Madame Giry was a friend of ours so she took me in. It is not something I enjoy talking about." I murmured, fiddling with the napkin in front of me. Raoul nodded in understanding.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Your father was a very kind man." I nodded in agreement and a awkward silence settled over us both before I sucked in a breath and gave him a smile.

"So, what about you?"

We talked, for what seemed to me, for an eternity before we finally decided to call it a day and left for the Opera. I had enjoyed his stories of adventure, how he regaled his youth with such fervour and his time with the Navy.

"Of course I still get called upon time to time and I'm away for months at a time but I love it. The sea, the ship... my crew mates. It's such a great sense of freedom that I shall probably be with the Navy my whole life." He had said with a cheeky grin. Now, as we walked side by side, he told me of his father's withering health and of his brothers reluctance to replace his father's position in society.

"Philippe has always been concentrated on gambling, alcohol and woman. He has no interest in the estate at all." He told me with a grimace as we neared the Opera Populaire's steps.  
"What happens if he doesn't take his place?"

"Then I have to. I would become Comte De Chagny and take over my father's business and estate. It's not what I want to do at all but if Philippe refuses, I don't have much choice. I can't expect Marie or Charlotte to takeover. Mother would have a fit if they did." Raoul sighed and rubbed his face roughly with his hands. "I just wish my brother would take some responsibility but that notion is incredibly foreign to him." I gave him a sympathetic look as we came to stop outside the doors.

"I'm sure you'll sort something out. Anyway, thank you for dinner and assisting me home."

"It was an absolute delight, Mademoiselle. And now, regrettably, I must bid you adieu." He placed a feather like kiss on my hand and tipped his hat, before strolling off into the darkness. Surprisingly, the night had not been as bad as I thought it would be, and I walked with happiness in my steps towards my dressing room. However, that happiness quickly turned to dread when I opened my door to be greeted by the furious eyes of Erik staring at me from a distance

"Where have you been?" He spat, venom lacing every word. I cowered in the doorway, clutching my cloak tighter around my body. I was in deep trouble and I did not know if I could get out of it

A/N- I do not own any of the characters, all rights belong to Gaston Leroux, etc. Please leave a review! Thanks! :)


	3. Chapter 3

He was furious. I hadn't seen him this angry since I removed his mask without permission. I daren't move incase I got swallowed up by his fury, his whole persona was ebbing black fury and it was slowly snaking it's way toward me.

"E-Erik!" I stuttered, carefully closing the door behind me but not locking it. At this moment, I didn't trust him. He was incredibly volatile when he was overwrought with emotion. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? _What's wrong?"_ He hissed, his eyes sparking with fury, "What's wrong Christine is that I came here to find you gone, with no note as to where you were. Even Madame Giry didn't know where you were. I was worried sick." That last line sparked my interest. He was worried for my safety... But of course he was, this was Erik we were talking about, the all knowing all seeing Phantom. If he didn't know my whereabouts then he would have tore the whole of Paris apart in order to find me.

"I was with Monsieur De Chagny..." The words stilled on my tongue as I watched his eyes switch from fury to utter disgust.

" _You_ were with that pitiful excuse of a man? That slave of fashion? That _fop_?" He stalked towards me and I backed against the door, pressing my whole body against the hard surface.

"He's an old friend... I've known him since I was a child. He... He took me out for dinner." Erik's golden eyes bored holes in to my own and I flinched at the pure anger radiating off his body. His lip started twitching and his fists clenched in to balls, barely constrained against his sides. I knew that if he had the chance, he would have tore this whole room apart by now.

"Don't you dare _ever_ go anywhere without my knowing, do you understand Christine?" I was taken aback by that statement and somewhat disgruntled. How dare he try and control me like I was his pet.

"I don't understand why you are getting so upset over this. And I am not some puppet that you can control. I shall go where I please, when I please with or without your knowing." I brushed past him in a mild panic, biting down on my loose tongue and braced myself against the ongoing barrage of anger that was bound to come. But... nothing happened. I gave him a cautious look over my shoulder and found him leaning against the door, taking in deep breaths to get his anger under control. "I am sorry that I gave you a fright Erik but you must accept that I am my own person. I like to make my own decisions, and I don't want you to have to make them for me." A moment of silence followed before he straightened up considerably and gave me a cold, detached look.

"Why, of course, my _princess._ Forgive me for being worried to death over your disappearance. I shan't bother again should you go missing from the Opera." He stormed over to the mirror, wrenched it open and stared in to the black abyss. "And by the way, your last high note was flat and you faltered several times. Try better next time." Oh, how that barbed comment stung me like lash of a whip as I listened to the mirror slam shut behind him. The tense air dissipated almost immediately and I collapsed in to my chair, tears stinging the corner of my eyes. This was going to be harder than I thought.


	4. Chapter 4

I had a habit, I realised, for messing things up. I had even been unpopular growing up amongst the ballet rats for I had a loose tongue that let slip secrets that were strictly forbidden to be aired. They soon learnt that there was no point dispelling their secrets to me, as I had already caused large voids between the friendship groups that circled around the dormitories. Meg was the only one who trusted me, but then again she was like a sister to me. I wouldn't dare tell any one her secrets. She had my trust and I had hers. There was one person's who trust I didn't have and that was a certain Phantom who had been lurking around in his domain for the past week and I hadn't heard a word for him. He had been at rehearsals, that was for sure, as he scared half the ballet rats to death and ripped apart the orchestra with a blazing reprimand that left half the musicians in tears. All because he was sour towards me. I needed to amend that.

That's how I found myself traversing the corridors alone at night with a small lantern as my guide. I knew if Erik saw me, he'd have a fit. I was strictly forbidden from going around the corridors by myself. _Traps are everywhere_ he had said, and that haunting message kept replaying through my mind. A rat brushed past my foot and I let out a horrified squeak, almost dropping the lantern I gripped in my hand and cursed the little vermin running about the tunnels. It took me an eternity to finally locate the main cavern with the glassy lake and I surprised myself that I hadn't died in the treacherous corridors. That's when I noticed that I still had one more problem to overcome, the black gondola that mocked me from the waters edge. I grimaced at the sight and made my way over, gingerly placing my foot in the boat when I realised, if the boat was here then Erik wasn't in... Perhaps instead of risking my life, I could just wait for him here. So that is what I did. I sat on the pebbled shore, playing with the slate grey pebbles that were cold beneath my hands. I didn't even hear the crunch of footsteps in the distance as I was so absorbed in my thoughts hence why I let out a shriek when I felt a hand touch my shoulder. My first thought was that it wasn't Erik, because he never would touch me without my spoken permission, then my second was... who on earth could be traipsing down here to see Erik as well? I quickly turned around to see a concerned looking man with a funny hat and jade coloured eyes peering down at me through the murky darkness, our lamps only illuminating our faces and chests.

"W-who are you?" I stuttered, scrambling to my feet to meet his height. He did not answer straight away, only looked me up and down and smiled kindly.

"My dear, no need to be alarmed. I am known as the Daroga. Perhaps you have seen me around the opera?" I thought hard, scanning his face intently when it suddenly clicked into place and I calmed considerably.

"Oh.. yes. I know who you are. I'm Christine Daae." I held out my hand and he took it in his, giving it a gentle shake.

"Ah yes. I know all about you Mademoiselle. Our mutual friend does not cease talking about you." I raised my brow.

"You know Erik?"

"I do. I have known him for many years." I furrowed my brow in deep concentration.

"That's funny... I don't think I have ever heard him mention your name." The Daroga snorted with laughter.

"I am not surprised. He likes to pretend I don't exist."

"That sounds like Erik." I mumbled, making the Daroga laugh even more.

"Mademoiselle, why are you down here?" I gestured to his home across the lake which looked empty and dark.

"To see him. I need to talk with him. I'm afraid the last time we parted it wasn't on good terms at all." He nodded in understanding.

"Ah yes. Our friend is quick to anger, is he not?" I found myself nodding in agreement and was about to say something else when a cold, unhappy voice echoed around the cavern.

"Why, if it isn't two little conspirators. Tell me Daroga, have you told her all of my _secrets?_ " The Daroga grimaced. I shivered.

Our mutual friend had returned.

 **A/N- All rights go to Gaston Leroux etc, I don't own any of the characters.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N- In reply to Masked Man 2: Thank you kindly for you review! I appreciate your analysis. As to the topic of redemption... well it has been mentioned slightly but we will delve more into that later on!**

He emerged from the shadows, prowling like some majestic black panther, his feet not making any sound on the gravel beneath him. It was eerie how silent he could be and it didn't take him long to reach our sides.

"What are we whispering about then? Planning to reveal my hiding place?" He sneered, but it seemed both the Daroga and I were taken aback by his unkempt appearance. Erik had always been a meticulously well dressed gentleman, with impeccable suits of the finest taste and neat, slicked back hair. At the moment, he wore only a loose white poets shirt splattered with red ink and black slacks whose hem was crusted with dried mud. His hair was loose and ruffled, making appear even more like a maniac as the full face black mask stared down at us. His molten golden eyes were smouldering but he was not angry, only annoyed by our appearances.

"We wouldn't dare. We just wanted to see you." The Daroga quipped, earning a withering glare from the masked man.

"I know why you are here. To check up on me. To make sure I'm not up to no good." He leaned in and whispered in his ear, though I wasn't able to hear what he said. By the looks of it, it was something very threatening as the Daroga paled considerably and I watched his voice box bob up and down from a rather large gulp.

"W-well... It's good to see you are well." Erik glared at him. The Daroga scratched his head, huffing and sighing before holding his hands up in surrender. "Fine... Fine. I'll go. Just be warned that I will be checking up on you soon." Erik rolled his eyes and looked away from him, staring at something obscure on the cavern wall. The Daroga bobbed his head towards me and waved goodbye. I copied his motions. Soon enough, it was just him and I standing opposite each other in the somewhat chilly cavern. I felt my hands reach for the edges of my cloak to pull it tighter across my body, all whilst looking at Erik in anticipation. He didn't seem willing to talk at all. That hurt a lot.

"Erik... I- I came here to talk to you about last Friday."

"What is there to talk about? You made yourself clear Christine, you don't need me around-"

"That's not what I meant at all!" I exclaimed, interrupting his train of thought and earning a mildly annoyed glance from him.

"Well that's what I got from it." He still wasn't looking at me, so I moved to be in his direct line of view and after a while he finally rested his eyes on mine. All I could see was an ocean of sadness, pain and anger and it felt like a punch to the gut.

"What I meant was that... I-I just need to have a bit of freedom! You can't expect to tell me what to do and have me be happy to oblige!" He ran his hand through his hair and shook his head. He seemed to be thinking as his jaw tightened and teeth gritted.

"You don't get it, do you? You don't... Ugh you don't understand how much of a fright you gave me!"

"Why? Why did it get you so uptight? I don't understand, it was just dinner! I thought you didn't want to see me because you had already been and gone and didn't bother hanging around!" I cried, gesticulating wildly with my hands throughout the whole speech.

"What? I left for a bit so you could spend time with your friends and celebrate! I didn't expect you to disappear!"

"Ok... Fine maybe I should have left a note for you! But that still doesn't make up for the fact that you tried _forcing_ me to do as you command! I don't work like that Erik-"

"It is how I work Christine!" He blurted out, staring at me with such angry compassion that it shut me up immediately, "All my life, I have never... _never_ had the control over what I wanted to do, ok? I have been _forced_ by so many other people to do things that I had no obligation to do so this... This is second nature to me! It is all I know! I forced you because it's the only thing I know how to do, and I am deathly scared of losing you, ok? You disappeared, you left, you didn't say a word to anyone? How was I supposed to feel? Just let you get on with it? I physically cannot do that Christine. I cannot lose you."

"I-I..." I stuttered, staring at him wild eyed. He silenced me with another look.

"You have no idea... _no idea_ how much you mean to me. You made me panic and I thought I lost you forever. To find out that you were spending time with that _fop_ who had the potential to be dangerous and me not knowing about it _scares_ me. And what angers me is that you were so flippant about it that I might as well have not bothered even caring about you in the first place! Because I do care for you Christine, I really... really care." His voice cracked on the last sentence and he turned away, running both hands through his hair. I didn't know how to react. This was the first time he had ever opened up to me to freely.

"Erik... I'm sorry. I didn't know you felt like that. If it's any consolation, I'll leave a note next time... or tell Madame Giry. I realise now it was cruel of me to put you through that... It just angered me that you believed you could control me." Erik sighed heavily.

"I am trying Christine. I really am trying to let you be your own woman and get on with your life the way you want to. I understand as well if you no longer want me in it. It is just so hard."

"Don't you ever say that, ok?" The tears were slowly filling up in the corner of my eyes, "I need you in my life. You are my angel. My saviour. Erik..." My voice cracked and I swallowed thickly, "I care way too much about you to let you just disappear. This past week has been _hell."_ I sniffed, a lone tear making it's way down my cheek. He looked my way and seemed alarmed at the tears in my eyes. Slowly he made his way closer and stopped before me, reaching out his hand to brush the tear away but decided against it, letting his hand fall to his side. "It's ok. You can touch me." His eyes lit up at those words but yet he shook his head.

"A monster like me shouldn't be allowed to taint the skin of someone so heavenly as you."

"Oh please Erik, I'm not some ethereal figure who will burn at your touch. I'm not fragile." I half sobbed, half laughed, as I grasped his hand, the leather glove warm against my own and the proceeded to remove the barrier that prevented our skin from touching. I gently took his cold, skeletal hand in mine and brought it up to my cheek, which made him whimper at the contact.

"I'm trying too Erik. I'm trying to make it up to you for what I did. I feel so horrible and I know I don't deserve your forgiveness outright so I'm going to work hard to earn it back."

"Christine, don't-"

"No. I know what I did broke the trust you had in me. I know it was unforgiving. I made a promise and I broke it. Please, let me make it up to you." He smirked, and I smiled at the fact that the Erik I knew was slowly coming back.

"How do you propose on doing that?"

"Perfecting my performances. Making you proud. And this." I wrapped my arms around his body and crushed my head into his coarse white shirt, marvelling at how fast his heart was currently beating. Every muscle in his body stiffened at the contact, and he didn't return the gesture until a little later on, slowly putting his hands gingerly on my back. "Don't ever abandon me again." I sniffed, my voice muffled in his clothing. I heard him give a little laugh and I could picture him smile.

"Never."

 **A/N... All rights go Gaston Leroux. I don't own any of the characters and I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter...**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N- Review replies!**

 **You are Love- Thank you, I'm intrigued... what did you expect to happen? :)**

 **Masked Man 2- You know, I completely went mind numb and couldn't remember what it was called but I suppose they are technically the same thing! (Adam's Apple) Glad you enjoyed it! :)**

The moment we broke away from our hug, he turned back into the sardonic, stormy Phantom that I knew. I feel like he felt a little embarrassed by his emotional outburst as he managed to avoid any eye contact with me as he escorted me back to my room. He didn't ask how I got down here, and I didn't dare tell him in case I angered him again so we walked in silence though it wasn't awkward. We reached the mirror in no time at all but he did not make any movement to open it. I could practically sees the wheels in his mind working away and I leant back against the grimy, cold wall, waiting for him to ask me something. It took him a while before he finally let his words loose.

"Tell me... What do you think of this... De Chagny boy?" I was not overly surprised at his question for I knew he had been suspicious of him ever since he set foot in the Opera House.

"He is my friend. He is very kind and not at all like the fop you paint him to be, monsieur." I scolded mockingly, crossing my arms across his chest. He scowled.

"Yes... but..." He trailed off, staring down at the floor.

"But...?"

"Well... How do you... _feel_ about him?" Ah. I see. He was trying to see if I had romantic feelings for my old childhood friend, how typical.

"I don't think I am obligated to tell you that." Erik huffed in annoyance, fiddling with the black onyx signet ring on his little finger. He didn't say anything, merely opened the mirror for me and stood aside so I could get past. I gave him a look, noticing how he was restraining himself from saying anything inappropriate, making me sigh. "I don't have any romantic feelings towards him, if you must know. I just see him as a friend... maybe even a brother." My words seemed to make his eyes glow with happiness and I knew how smug he must be feeling at the moment that I didn't have any feelings for the handsome Vicomte De Chagny. The little smile he gave quickly vanished and his eyes turned cold and distant.

"Interesting. Anyway, lesson at mine tomorrow?"

"Yes. I'd like that. After rehearsals?" He nodded.

"I promise, I will tidy myself up. I look disgraceful." I smiled slyly and gave a small shrug.

"I don't know. I quite like the dishevelled look." Erik snorted and made a meagre attempt at straightening his shirt out.

"Well, I don't. I feel like a vagabond." I smirked, enjoying how our relationship had almost got back to normal. He bid me adieu and silently shut the mirror behind me, leaving me in a very darkened room making me squint to see through the murkiness. I blindly felt my away around the room until I felt the gas lamp and turned it up a notch, flooding the room with a warming, yellow light. I smiled happily to myself, noting that everything was order all until I turned towards my dressing table and let out a shriek of surprise. There, in my seat, sat Meg Giry, a look of distaste plastered across her face and her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She wore a white leotard, a soft pink tutu, white tights and white ballet shoes that were meticulously clean despite the hours of use everyday. The shoes made a soft flapping noise as they pounded against the carpet and she was chewing at her lip.

"Christine Daae, you have some explaining to do."

 **A/N sorry for the short chapter, was lacking any ideas for it! All rights go to Gaston Leroux etc and I don't own any of the characters.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N- Masked Man 2: Once again, thank you for your kind review! :)**

I felt my throat clench in worry as my best friend stared at me in disbelief, her lips twisted into a unimpressed grin as she stared at me intensely. Had she seen Erik? Surely not... But she would've heard everything... Oh how was I going to explain this one!?

"Meg! What are you doing in my room?" This came out as a squeak and I cursed myself inwardly for being so jittery when I needed to be cool and collected. I gulped heavily, my parched throat void of excuses as my brain frantically tried thinking up different scenarios I could tell my friend.

"Who was that?" She asked, completely ignoring my question. Time to act the fool.

"Who...?"

"That... man in the mirror. Who was it?"

"What man?" I mumbled, pulling at a strand of my hair which made Meg tut. She hated it when I did this and always warned me that my hair would fall out if I did it anymore. Of course, I didn't listen to her.

"Don't play dumb with me Christine. I heard voices. I know you were talking to someone. Who?" Oh there was no way I was going to avoid this. For such a small, petite girl with a friendly face and cheerful eyes, she was the most stubborn, inquisitive person you'd ever meet. She'd eventually find out anything because of her somewhat... forceful character.

"I-I... I can't tell you!" I cried, flopping down on my chaise loungue and buried my head in to my soft, burgundy pillow... the velvet material rubbing against my face.

"What?! Why not? Do you not think I'm concerned about you, going through hidden parts of the opera house like some phantom? And... OH!" She suddenly exclaimed, covering her mouth with her hands in shock, "Y-you were with the P-phantom weren't you?" Damn it. I removed my head from the soft pillow and stared at her, the answer clearly written in my eyes which made her shake her head back and forth.

"Meg, please-"

"The Phantom!? You're running around with the Phantom of the Opera?" She practically shouted, forcing me to jump up from my seat and clap my hands over her cupid bow lips.

"Meg, please! _Shut up!_ " I hissed, taking her over to the furthest corner away from the door so that no one could overhear us, "You can't tell anyone, this is top secret!" Meg stared at me wide eyed, a little bit scared but mostly shocked by my revelation. To be honest, if I were in her shoes, I'd probably react the same way. I thought of how I promised Erik that I wouldn't tell anyone of our situation and groaned inwardly at how I had let him down yet again. She was silent for a while, probably processing what was going on before she finally gathered the courage to speak.

"Christine, _why?_ Why on earth are you conversing with _him?"_ I sighed and buried my head into my hands.

"Meg, he's... He's my angel of music."

"What?"

"You remember when I used to tell you about that secret tutor I had? The one who would visit me in the chapel? I used to call him my angel of music?" She stared at me aghast.

"You're telling me that the Phantom is your almighty, wonderful angel of music? Christine, he is a terror! He is a vandal!" I hushed her quickly, worried that Erik might still be listening to my conversation.

"Meg, hush. He's not... He really is not. He just wants what is best for the Opera and this is his way of dealing with it. No one is going to listen to a masked man but a ghost is a different story." She gasped.

"So he really does wear a mask?" I paled considerably, cursing my loose tongue a thousand times over.

"Yes. But you must not tell anyone anything, do you understand me Meg? This is between you and me." Meg slowly nodded but still looked utterly shocked by today's revelations, when I suddenly remembered I had asked her why she was in my room and was yet to answer, "Besides, what are you doing here in the first place?"

"Oh.. You're door was unlocked and I needed to talk to you about something, so I thought I'd wait for you."

"What's wrong?" She chewed at her fingernail and shook her head sadly.

"Didn't you hear? Philippe De Chagny was found dead today."

"What!? H-how did this happen?!" Meg bowed her head in sadness and whispered so quietly that I had great difficulty hearing her but when I picked up on her words my mouth hung open to the floor.

"He was murdered."

 **A/N God this chapter sucks. All rights go to Gaston Leroux etc don't own any of the characters etc**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N : Masked Man 2- Thank you once again for your kind review! :)**

A cloud of melancholy had settled over the cast and crew of the Opera Populaire the next day. Philippe De Chagny, whilst scandalous in his affairs, was a very popular patron amongst us all as he was affluent, kind hearted and bore a twinkle of mischief in his eye. I didn't see Raoul about, though I supposed he was back at home with his father, mother and two sisters grieving for the loss of the treasured brother and son. The managers practically wept, though I'm sure it was at the possibility of the De Chagny family withdrawing their patron-ship, however I noticed Sorelli had withdrawn herself to a quiet corner of the theatre to weep for her lost love. It was well known, amongst the cast and crew, that Sorelli was Philippe's lover, as the expensive perfumes, chocolates, jewels and flowers piled up in her dressing room delivered by only one man. The one man who now was lying in morgue and having his death investigated by the top detectives of Paris. The day had a dull fuzz surrounding it, or perhaps it was just my head as it did feel like it was stuffed with cotton wool. The rain pounded against the dirt stained windows of the rehearsal room at the back of the theatre and the dancers idly went through their steps though no one was in the mood to dance today.

"It is so sad," I heard one dancer say, a young fourteen year old called Jessamyn, "He was very kind to me. He gave me this little trinket, when I was nervous before my first performance." She held out her hand where a small wooden owl with bright blue diamonte eyes that glistened in the light rested in her palm. "I shall treasure it always." The elder dancers nodded in agreement, stroking little Jessamyn on the head as they whispered soothing words to her when tears appeared in her eyes. I noticed how Meg had also withdrawn from the pack, though I wasn't sure why, although before I could go and question her a familiar, drawling voice pierced the heavy melancholy surrounding us all.

"I understand you are all very _sad_ but please do remember we have a performance in tonight and every single one of you is certainly unprepared for such a momentous occasion, considering last nights debacle. _Get back to work."_ As quickly as the voice came it was gone, leaving everyone standing in a dull shock before murmurs of displeasure and anger rumbled throughout the crowd. However, it was effective and Monsieur Reyer went to his piano straight away, played some warming up chords and got the chorus practicing some simple songs. Madame Giry got the dancers up on their feet, going through some simple steps, her face flushed with anger no doubt directed at the Phantom. I was left to my own devices so I decided to go the chapel as I hadn't talked to my father of late, knowing that a certain man would probably also be there waiting for me.

Once I reached the chapel, I took my place before my small shrine, caressing the picture of my father with my fingertips before clasping my hands in a silent prayer. The chapel was my favourite part of the whole opera house, with two stained glass windows letting in diluted colours of light that danced across the slate grey floor. Several candles were mounted all around, the waxy stubs dripping down over the holders creating crowns of wax small enough for mice to wear. The smell of old parchment and beeswax filled the air, as well as fresh flowers lain down by the small shrine and it filled me with a great sense of comfort. Yet when he arrived, I felt the air shift and become fragile like a icy sheen across a lake.

"Shouldn't you be rehearsing?" He asked, opening a hidden part of the wall to reveal himself all dressed up in his splendour, his black garb making him appear like some sinister fiend.

"Probably," I muttered, still kneeling with my eyes closed and hands clasped, "But I decided a visit to my father would be more worth my time."

"You can visit him anytime." He snapped suddenly, making me open my eyes wide in alarm and look at him aghast. His eyes were blazing with anger though I didn't know why.

"I can rehearse anytime. What on earth is the matter with you? You know how much my father means to me." The anger dulled suddenly and he looked away, ashamed.

"I-I know. I'm sorry. I'm just stressed."

"Erik, the performances have been fine. Tonight will be fine but... just let them mourn, for a bit at least. Monsieur De Chagny will be very much missed." I made sign of the cross, stood up and dusted down my dress as little bits of grit stuck to the patches of my knees.

"Why? He was a fiend."

"He was not. Perhaps a little controversial, but not a fiend." Erik scoffed, staring at me dubiously. I waved my hand to dispel his words and made for the door. "I am done praying now. As much as I would like to stay longer, a certain tutor of mine believes otherwise." Erik looked at me coldly but I completely ignored him.

"I will see you later, for you lesson."

"Yes. What are you going to do now? Something only a Phantom would do?" He nodded sincerely.

"Of course, my dear, it is what I do best." As quick as a flash, he disappeared, leaving me alone in the chapel. With a sigh, I slowly made my way back to rehearsal which was surely going to be long, dull and boring, but I had to tonight to look forward. Yet it left me wondering as to what mood he'd be in when I arrived and I could only hope it would be a good one.

A/N- **All rights go to Gaston Leroux etc, I don't own any of the characters etc.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N- Masked Man 2: Yes, well Christine has no reason to be suspicious of Erik regarding Philippe's death... And it may not have even been him! You'll find out soon enough ;) Haha no not really, sort of doing my own thing! Not following any story! :)**

Remember when I said that I hoped that Erik would be in a good mood when I went for my lesson later on? Well, he couldn't be further from the concept of happy, for as he opened the mirror to my expectant, smiling face, his own was a hard, cold plain of black with stormy eyes and a pinched grimace, from what I could tell of his almost transparent lips. He did not say a word to me as he accompanied me back to his lair, nor did he utter anything when he sat down at his piano and waited for me to drift over to his side. I did so in hesitation, unsure of his current mood, for the air surrounding us was incredibly uncomfortable and tense. His slender fingers were poised over the ivory keys, yet they twitched as if they were ready to grab an object and hurl it across the room. I assumed he was angry from the mediocre performance everyone gave earlier, though no one had any heart to perform at 100% due to yesterday's bad news. Bad performances were Erik's biggest bug bare, for whenever I was down here after a performance he would complain until the sun rose in the morning about how awful we all were. Not that I knew when the sun rose when I was down in this dingy cavern. I had to admit, I did like Erik's home but it does get awfully chilly and quiet, especially when he doesn't play the piano (I know, a odd occurrence, but sometimes I fear he could chop it up for firewood.)

"Erik? Are you ok?" I started off timidly, watching the hard planes of his back shift ever so slightly like a panther ready to pounce.

"No. Let's start with the lesson. I want you to sing 'Je veux vivre', from Roméo et Juliette." I nodded and he launched into the song so quickly that it made my voice hitch in surprise and my first high note was flat and flakey. He gave me a withering look and started again, this time it was a bit more successful. The lesson went on for an hour until my voice had tired and so had my body, so I excused myself and flopped down in my favourite chair in front of the fire, all the while aware of his blazing eyes on my figure. I had no idea why he was so uptight tonight but I didn't think I had the energy to do so. Then it happened. A question, so quick, so bizarre that at first I didn't properly register what he had said. He had said to me in a voice so quiet and curious; "Christine, what do you think of me?" I stared at him in confusion, cocking my head a little to the side.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think I'm a bad person?" I shook my head slowly, wondering what he was getting at.

"N-no. Well... I mean I don't really know you that well, do I? You never tell me about yourself... So I can't really say to you if I think you're bad or good. But... I think you're good..." He shook his head forlornly and stared at the keys before him.

"You are very wrong. I am not a good person at all."

"How so?" He was worrying me now.

"I do bad things."

"Like what...?" Yet as soon I uttered those words, he shut up like a clam and turned into his old, condescending self.

"Never you mind, it's none of your business." He was so confusing sometimes that I felt like strangling him. What was his problem?! I watched as he stood up from his piano seat and stalked away in to his bedroom.

"B-but..."

"You may stay tonight. Good night Christine, I will see you in the morning." And then he was gone, locked up in his room of black and macarbre objects that gave me the creeps. I didn't even want to think about the ghastly coffin that he used as a bed. I sat there for a while, think over his bizarre moment and wondered what on earth had happened. Was he feeling guilt for something? Or was he just weirdly interested? When he said he wasn't a good person, what was he referring to? It was all so confusing that I eventually retired to bed, my head aching from all the thoughts racing through my head. It was only when I was lying in bed that I thought back to when I visited him yesterday, in his rumpled attire with the red stains splattered across his shirt. I blamed my over active mind at the resulting thought but I wondered what if it wasn't ink... what if it was blood? Then, I gasped with horror at another thought that blistered my brain.

What if Erik killed Philippe De Chagny?

 **A/N I don't own any of the characters, all rights go to Gaston Leroux. Meh to this chapter!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N- Masked Man 2: Haha well bug bare is one of my favourite sayings! Sorry for the wait, just had no inspiration! :) Thanks again!**

I was woken, from what wasn't a very good sleep in the first place, by the sound of a stifled yell and low whimpers. At first, I thought it was my foggy mind clearing away the dream that tantalised my brain, and I was glad for I thought it would turn into a nightmare very soon. Like the crawling mist across a forest floor, my mind stayed in a perpetual mist of sleepiness that I could not shake as I swung my legs over my bed and on to the cold, wooden floor beneath me. My legs felt like blocks of concrete and I groaned at their heaviness. My whole body ached, my mouth was dry and distasteful and my eyes creaked open like the broken shutters of a window. This was not the best time to wake up. I was not an early riser. But something had troubled me, something out there had warned me. I had almost forgotten my disturbing thought before I drifted off to sleep but slowly it came back, winding around my mind like the gears of a clock. Even as I slipped on my robe, the image of Erik murdering Philippe De Chagny tarnished my mind, and I walked to his chambers in a reluctant stumble. As I walked along the corridor, the candle I held in it's brass holder casted odd shadows across the wall, making it appear like I was being stalked by strange shadow monsters. My flesh prickled with goosebumps and my teeth clattered against each other as I shivered in the cold before I reached his door. The one room I wasn't allowed in. No light seeped from underneath the doorway and when I pressed my ear against the dark mahogany wood, no sound came through either. The whimpering certainly wasn't coming from there. Where on earth was it?

I wondered down the corridor until I reached the parlour room and noticed how one of the mirrors that Erik kept propped against the wall with it's large shroud of fabric covering it was smashed. The red velvet curtain was crumpled up in a heap on the floor, the glass that littered it glinting in the soft candle light that cast a warm glow over the room. I leant closer to inspect the glass when I heard another whimper, this time coming from the room on my left. The bathroom. My feet ghosted across the floor as I neared the sealed entrance, my breath trapped in my throat. I hesitated outside before pressing my ear against the door. Sure enough, I heard a soft sobbing noise come from inside.

"Erik?" I started tentatively, resting my hand on the cold brass handle.

"Go away!" A broken voice replied, one that did not sound like the mighty phantom at all. I bit my lip, my brain wanting to do as he said but my heart wanted to see if he was ok. In the end my heart won.

"E-Erik. I'm c-coming in!" I stuttered, in my most assertive voice which ended up coming out like a timid whisper.

"N-no! P-p-please Christine, n-no!" I ignored his pleading voice and opened the door slowly, peering around the edge, my eyes slowly growing wider at what I saw. There, leaning against the wall in the corner of the room sat Erik, his arms prostrate on his legs that two shot out beneath him like two spindly black twigs. His mask was discarded, sitting in another corner of the room and I assumed he must have thrown it there in frustration. The cabinet mirror was also smashed, leaving a black gaping hole like a jagged mouth in the centre of the cabinet, revealing all of his medicines and creams that sat hidden inside. But the most alarming thing in this situation was the jagged shards of glass sticking out of his arms, crimson red blood dripping down like tiny rivers onto the marble floor. Before I could stop myself I shrieked in horror, looking at his arms, then his face, then his arms. His whole face spoke a twisted agony and loathing and no matter how hard he tried to turn away from me, I could still see his haunting deformity, the gaping holes of his nose twitching from his fast, heavy breathing. His eyes, like two glowing lanterns in the night, stared at me from deliriously heavy eyelids. Not only were small shards sticking out of his skin, long jagged lines stretched their way across his pale, taught skin. He had done this to himself... And the offending weapon lay discarded at the side, caked in his blood.

"Oh my goodness Erik, what have you done?" I squeaked, hurrying to his side where he attempted to push me away my pressing his limp, bloody hands against my shoulders.

"N-no Christine, no..." He wheezed, his head leaning heavily on his shoulder. I removed his limp hands from shoulders and encased them in my own, his fingers like freakishly long, thin candle sticks curling over my palms.

"We need to get you cleaned up, now!" I said, anger now lacing my voice as I thought about how stupid he had been. He could've died! The selfish, pig headed man! My eyes darted around the room and rested on a small, wooden box that sat underneath the sink and I reached for it, quickly opening the carved lid. To my delight, a whole box of medical supplies revealed themselves to me allowing me to slip my hand in and root around for some tweezers. I need to get the shards out first. Gripping his wrist, where no damage had been done, I carefully but quickly removed the angry glass teeth of the shattered mirror, setting them aside with the one that started it all. Erik remained languid in my grasp, staring at me like a lifeless doll, his death heads making shivers run down my spine as it glared at me from the shadows. He no longer whimpered. He no longer wept. He was motionless. Once the shards had been removed, I cleaned the blood away with a sodden rag and a basin of water, the cuts bubbling out more of his life as time went by. I found a solution of Iodine, an antiseptic for the wounds so that they would not grow infected, which I washed over his ragged cuts before quickly bandaging them up in stiff, white gauze. Erik was faint, but I had to pick him up and get him out of the blood smeared bathroom, the smell making me incredibly nauseous. Though, I was secretly proud of myself for not flinching at his face which loomed in and out of sight as we doggedly made our way back to my room, for I was not about to let him sleep in that dreadful coffin of his. Slowly, I helped him down on to my bed, and strangely enough, he did not fight back or resist being put to bed in my room. I supposed he was too out of it to care. I carefully lay him down, his head sinking into my beautifully soft pillows, though it contrasted strangely with his skeleton head poking out. His black hair flopped over his face so I pushed it back and sighed mournfully to myself, forcing myself to stare at him so that it no longer felt strange to me. That would be a sensation I don't think I'd ever get over. He was still looking at me, though his eyes were soft and tender and no longer had a determinedly angry look about them.

"What were you thinking?" I asked tiredly, taking his bandaged hand in mine. He shrugged half heartedly and gazed away, staring at something apparently of interest on the wall.

"I am a bad person. I needed to punish myself." He whispered, though I almost didn't catch his words. I shook my head.

"Erik, how are you bad? Please tell me why you felt the need to do this to yourself!" But he didn't answer. Instead, he gave me a lingering look of tiredness before his exhaustion overcame him and he fell asleep. I sighed in exasperation. I guess tomorrow I would finally find out what had caused this horrific self abuse and help my friend over come his chaotic mind. Though I prayed to the high heavens that the reason behind his ludicrous behaviour was nothing to do with the death of Philippe De Chagny.

 **A/N- I don't own any of the characters. All rights go to Gaston Leroux, etc... Hope you enjoyed it! :)**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N- Masked Man 2- I know, Erik is such a complicated and damaged character but I will make things easier for him... maybe ;) yes, she can be a bit of a bossy boots, can't she? haha thanks :)**

 **Erik's Rose 2809- Wow! Thank you for all of your kind reviews! I am glad you're enjoying the story so far! :)**

 _Erik dreamt of a meadow filled with long, dainty flowers and grass that went up to his knee, tickling him slightly. He let out a laugh, which startled him. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed so freely. A hazy sun sat smiling in the sky, it's stretching rays warming Erik's small body as he held out his hands to his sides. So... this was what freedom was. He had forgotten the sensation and it was nice to feel it again. A little surprised that he was his nine year old self, Erik glanced around, his head feeling like a heavy blur as it scanned its surroundings. He closed his eyes. He wished he didn't. For when he opened them, the scene around him was no longer warm, sunny or anything like freedom. Thick iron bars encased him in a small, dingy cage with dirty, sodden hay in which he defecated and urinated in sat piled up in the corner. His right wrist flared up in pain as a tight, metal handcuff pinched at his skin, the chain to which it was attached leading it's way around the floor like a menacing snake fixed to a bolt on the floor. The name calling began. Then the beating. The old memories of pain resurfaced and made him grimace in agony, his most recent wounds making the pain that little bit more real. Screaming filled his ears and it would not escape. He couldn't make it. Then, the whip came slashing down across his back, slicing into his skin like a knife carving through butter._

 _"My little corpse needs to behave." A familiar voice rang out, and he looked to his left to see Gregor standing there with a disturbing smile plastered across his face. Again and again the whip rained down on his back, but he did not cry out. Whilst he endured the pain, a small, concerned face appeared in front of his vision._

 _"What have you done?" It whispered, and Erik was startled to see Christine standing there before him. He tried to say her name but found with alarm that his tongue was no longer part of his body. The girl noticed this and grimaced, turning her nose up and her head away, moaning in disgust. "You are the most ugliest, disgusting creature that I have ever lain eyes on." She spat, before turning away from him. She ignored the whipping, ignored Gregor's perverse face, ignored Erik's screaming gurgles. Another wash of pain came over him, the cage moving in closer and closer around him. Only when the bars pressed hard against his body did he scream loudly, his vision fading to darkness, the only thing inscribed on his brain was the look of disgust he had got from his beloved. Christine was gone._

Erik woke me up, again, with his frantic screaming as he scrabbled at his night shirt, yanking it up slightly so he could reach a hand behind to check something, though I wasn't sure what. He exposed part of his stomach to me and I paled at the sight of a multitude of scars that criss crossed their way up and down like train tracks but he did not see me looking. When he pulled his hand away and checked it, he seemed to calm at its appearance and let it flop down on the bed, wincing when he remembered what he had done earlier in the night. He gazed around the room in confusion, wondering where he was and only till last minute did he notice me lying in the bed beside him, on top of the covers with a blanket wrapped around my shoulders.

"C-Christine!?" He stammered, shocked that I was so close to him and it humoured me how he pulled the quilt up to his chest as if he was indecent.

"Are you ok? You were twitching and screaming in your sleep." I hummed sleepily, propping my head on my hand. He looked at me uncertainly before shaking his head.

"It was just a nightmare."

"Do you want to talk about it?" I probed, fulling sitting up making him lean away from me slightly.

"I-I... No, not really. But you were in it."

"I was?" He looked at me with pain in his eyes and nodded.

"Y-you saw me and called me a disgusting creature. I didn't have my mask on so I guess that explains why." I felt my heart twist in agony at his words. My hand reached for his hand and I gently grasped it, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"It was just a dream, Erik. It means nothing." He snorted in humour giving me a dark look.

"Well, it was close to how you reacted the first time you saw my face." I looked away in shame, biting my lip. That was true, I had been relentlessly cruel to him when I first saw his face. When I removed his mask without permission and screamed, calling him all sorts of names as he hounded me down with the most fiercest bout of anger I had ever seen.

"Perhaps... But Erik, you do realise that you're not wearing your mask now, right?" I had never seen him looked so shocked in all my life, for he stared at me as if I just grown two heads. Slowly, his free hand reached up to his face and upon the realisation when flesh touched flesh and no barrier of porcelain protected him, he moaned in misery.

"Oh Christine, I am so very sorry, forgive me! You should not be forced to look at this ugliness." He cried, wrenching his hand free of my grip to cover his face from my sight.

"Erik, stop it. It does not bother me. Now get some rest so you can gather back your strength. We have a lot to talk about in the morning."

"We do?" He murmured, removing his hands slightly and I didn't miss his confused gaze.

"As to why you did what you did last night and why you are a bad person." I said firmly, giving him an unimpressed look. I could tell by his face that a confrontation in the morning was the last thing he wanted to, but he did lie back down and close his eyes, giving a submissive sigh. There was no way that I was going to let his actions slide. Plus... I was desperate to know the truth.

 **A/N I don't own the characters. All rights go to Gaston Leroux etc**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N - Masked Man 2- Hmm yes, she does seem to get her way, doesn't she? And I'm glad you enjoyed the dream scene, it's nice to know it was effective! :)**

 **Lotte Who- Well, you'll find out soon ;) Thank you!**

I was used to the rays of the sun filtering through my shuttered windows on to my face, alerting me that a new day had dawned a fresh beginnings needed to be unravelled. Only, when you stayed in Erik's domain, you were greeted by a darkness so thick that it seemed to smother you until you felt like you were drowning. To my surprise, Erik was still lying by my side... I had half expected him to slip off half way through the night and never return, just to avoid talking in the morning. But he was there and in the dim light of the gas lamps that I left simmering through the night, I could see that he was wide awake, staring at the ceiling. He made no motion to look at me, though I wasn't sure he even knew I was awake, so I gazed at his side features, inspecting the paper thin skin that created a large hollow in his cheek. His cheek moved as he grimaced and turned his head slowly to look at me.

"Good morning." He spoke softly, in a whisper, as if he was afraid to truly break the silence that surrounded us. It was strange, I felt disconnected from the world and got the feeling that it was just me and Erik, with nothing to interrupt us. The world around me was black and empty. My sole concentration was on Erik.

"Good morning." His eyes roamed over my face, his eyes seeming to light up from a dim glimmer to a full on brazier of light before his eyelids slipped shut and extinguished the fire. They remained closed for a while, which confused me, so I reached forward and brushed his shoulder. They re opened.

"I'm sorry, I was just testing to see if this was real." Without putting too much pressure on his arms, Erik struggled up into a seated position, resting his back against the headboard. He held his arms out before him and sighed in despair, as if he had forgotten his bout of madness last night, "What an inconsiderate fool I am." He murmured, flexing his hands only to wince in pain from the skin that pulled taught over his muscles. I copied his position, my hands fiddling with the bedsheets.

"Why did you do it, Erik?" He didn't even bother looking at me. He simply stared down at his arms before him and shrugged.

"I did something awful, Christine. I've been wracked with guilt ever since. This was my punishment. I've been bad."

"What did you do?" I breathed, unsure if I wanted to hear the answer after this gnawing sensation of waiting. He was silent for a while before sighing deeply.

"I... I murdered someone." My heart stopped in my chest and my breath shuddered to a halt in my throat, my eyes wide and scared as I stared at the part of Erik I didn't know. My worst fear had come true. Now I just needed him to confirm who it was.

"Who? Who did you murder Erik?"

"I-I... I murdered the De Chagny fop." He muttered, looking away from me as horror filled my features and I felt my throat tighten in fear. I scrambled away from him, landing on the floor in a heap, causing him to look at me alarm. "Christine!"

"No! No... you didn't! Erik... why? Why did you do it?" I cried, scooting back until I was pressed against the wall. I brought my knees up to my chest and started to hyperventilate, images of Philippe De Chagny's corpse in mind with Erik standing over it with a merciless grin.

"Christine, calm down. You're going to have a panic attack." He commanded, swiftly getting out of bed and strode towards me, squatting down in front of my shaking figure. He was right, I was struggling for breath but every time I looked at his face, my panic resurfaced and I found it harder to breath. He took hold of my hand, it was cooling to the touch and stared at me in the eye, making me concentrate on him. "Breathe. Concentrate on your breathing. Like we do in your exercises." I did as he asked, and when I gained a little breath back, I wailed and asked him why he did it over and over again.

"I didn't mean to!" He said gruffly, running his thumb over my hand as I tried calming down, "I was out, gathering supplies. I was coming back when I heard screaming from an alleyway and I went to see what had happened. That letch had cornered a girl and she was screaming bloody murder. Christine... she sounded like you. She even looked like you in the dim light and I panicked. I thought he was trying to do something unseemly to you and I panicked. I took action and saw red. The next thing I knew, he was dead and the girl was still screaming, but I told her to go and never speak of it to anyone. She seemed to understand... but Christine, please... I was frightened. I thought he was trying to hurt you... And I couldn't allow that. I regret it now, of course I do. If only I had just torn him away from the girl and given him a beating but... It's just so easy for me to snap. It's how I've been conditioned to be..." He trailed off sadly, looking down at me with such sorrowful eyes that I felt my breath calming and my muscles grew less tense and soft.

"Conditioned...?"

"Christine... I haven't led the easiest life... I- The murder... It-" He sighed and fell back on to his rump, fisting his hands in to his hair and looked at me with such self loathing that I felt my heart stop, "It isn't the first time I have done it." He said finally, watching me carefully. I sucked in a breath, shaking at the revelation, his words still pummelling through my head. He killed Philippe De Chagny but... he was being protective over me. He thought I was being threatened and it slightly startled me that he would go to such lengths to protect me, yet it disgusted me as well. Murder was the lowest of the low in my opinion.

"What?"

"There is a good reason as to why I haven't told you anything about my past Christine.. but maybe I should tell you to help you understand me better." I considered his reasoning, and nodded, allowing him to help me up but I was still incredibly disappointed and angry with him.

"You didn't have to murder him." Was all I said as he led me out of the room and into the parlour. He sighed and gave me a forlorn look.

"I know Christine. I know. I have to live with that everyday now. I am sick of who I am. But maybe if you listened, you'd understand why I am what I am today. But Christine, let me tell you... I regret ever committing that crime because I can see the disgust you hold towards me and for that I am deeply ashamed." I didn't say a word as he sat me down in the parlour, him taking his particular throne chair and me squished in the corner of the sofa, watching him anxiously. He took a deep breath and steepled his fingers beneath his chin. "I suppose I'd better start from the beginning..."

 **A/N BOOM! I don't own the characters, all rights go to Gaston Leroux etc... THE TRUTH IS OUT!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N- Masked Man 2- Well lets give her a chance and she can decide what she thinks of his actions. After all, she does have a soft spot for him, even if she doesn't really show it... ;)**

 ***CAUTION. Bit disturbing so just be warned...***

Erik sat motionless for a while, his eyes trained on the flickering amber flames of the fire that shadowed parts of his face, but he did not look menacing like he sometimes he could. The glow gave him a soft, gentle look and I was so focused on staring at him in wonder that I didn't notice he was now looking straight at me.

"Would you like to begin from... well the very beginning? Do you want to know _everything?_ " I gulped and nodded, knowing that I was going to be here for a while judging by his tired gaze.

"Very well. Let's begin." He sat back into his chair, positioned himself so that he was comfortable and took a deep breath before he began his tale, never once taking his eyes off me. I stared back at him in equal attention, my hand nervously playing with the blanket that I had snatched along the way.

"Well... I was born in a small rural village here in France, I doubt you would have ever heard of it but it's called Boscherville. The village was founded by a German Count hence the Germanic roots of the name... But he didn't actually live there... Sorry I'm going off course already. Anyway, the village itself was a tight knit community, every one knew every one and it was a very pious, backwards little pact of people so of course I was doomed from the moment I was born," He said sardonically, tapping his fingers against his chin, "When I was brought into the world, my mother... Well she screamed bloody murder apparently, she never ceased to tell me _that_ , and tried making the midwife kill me soon after I taken my first breath. Of course, the midwife refused, though she herself was absolutely terrified that she was left holding a demon in her arms and so, they brought in the Priest. Strangely enough, he was the one who was the most... _accepting,_ shall we say, of me. A man so close to the breast of God and he was the one who told my mother not to kill me and actually baptised me, telling my mother that my appearance was an unfortunate incident and that I was still a child of God. As to why I was born like I am, we will get to that later on. My father had died before I was born so I never knew him but I assume he would have had the same reaction as my mother. Anyway, I was named after a nobody, for my mother didn't want to even look at me let alone name me so the Priest chose a name and that is what I go by. Growing up was... hard. She locked me in the attic for most of my life, rarely let me out, didn't come to see me. I learned to talk and walk from her friend who was a dear lady, who had difficulty looking at me but I think she pitied me. She was called Marie. She would bring me books and food and teach me things whilst my mother lay in a catatonic state, probably from all the alcohol she consumed. No one talked to her, the village abandoned her as soon I was born. Word got round that she was the mother of demon spawn so she was an outcast. I learned to speak French and English fluently by the time I was four, I composed music in my head after hearing the piano being played downstairs... It... It was a very lonely existence. Eventually she let me out but forbade me to touch her and I had to wear a leather mask at all times when I was around her. I learned all sorts of tricks that I can do now, like throwing my voice, playing the piano, most things because I was an incredibly curious child with an appetite for learning.  
'But, by the time I was eight, my mother ceased to even acknowledge my existence at all. If I did ever talk to her well, she would scream and hit me. One day, I asked her why I wore the mask and..." He gulped, looking down at the carpet before he carried on with his story, "She took me up to the bathroom, placed me in front of the mirror and tore away the mask. I had never been so terrified in all my life. I was looking at a monster and I begged her to make it go away. She told me it was my reflection and that I was a demon. She stormed away and I was so confused and angry that I actually smashed the mirror with my own hands." Erik pointed to smaller white scars further up his arms and smiled sadly, "You're not the first person to pick shards of glass out of me Christine. I grew up knowing I wasn't loved or needed so I let her alone. Things only got worse when her lover, a Doctor called Ettienne came on to the scene and even suggested sending me to a mental asylum because of my advanced nature. I was ten when I ran away from home. I later found out from Marie when I gave her visit a few years ago that my mother had taken a poison from a old Gypsy lady to get rid of me, because she didn't want my father to share love between me and her. She wanted him all to herself. The poison worked in that it made me wretchedly ugly and it's a curse I have had to bare."

"Oh Erik," I breathed, wanting to comfort him as well as wanting him to carry on with his story. He held out a hand and continued on slowly.

"Don't. I was on my own for two weeks until I stumbled across a travelling fair, they had pitched up in a field and of course I had to go check it out. I was starving as well so I chanced trying to get some bread but they discovered me and were probably about to kill me when my mask fell off and they saw my face. Let's just say Gypsy's love human oddities as it means massive amounts of money for them. My nightmare, the one I just had, was me revisiting that place. I was locked in a cage, with nothing but trousers and a sack to wear over my head. Hay acted as my bed and my... well 'lavatory area' and it was a very grim existence. I was forced to do a show every night where I would sing and they would removed my sack... Cue screaming and curses and rotten fruit..," he said nonchalantly despite the horrific story he was unfolding before me, "yet the worst thing about that place was my master. He was the one who 'looked' after me and 'fed' me but he was a brute. He'd whip me with Alicia, a 8 knotted whip that was his treasure every night without fail, and he called me his little corpse like I was some pet for him. If I had been especially bad then... well... he just did unpleasant things to me and.." He broke off, his voice catching as he squeezed his eyes shut at the painful memories. "I- I escaped when I was twelve by murdering Gregor. I strangled him with his whip and left him dead on the floor whilst I went off to search for a new life." He said bluntly, watching my face for a reaction but I gave none. I just wanted him to continue.

"I ended up in Italy of all places. How I got there, I can't remember but I do know that it was such a stunning place that I was tempted to remain there for the rest of my life. I built a new guise for myself, studied architecture and masonry, worked on building sites and grew a small reputation that caught the eye of a world class architect. He was called Lucius, and he took me in as his apprentice, and for a time I was very, very happy. He did not question the mask, for that I grateful. He had a daughter, Claudia, who was very beautiful. I think she was my first... what do you say, attraction? I'm not sure, but she did have the most beautiful eyes and appearance," I felt my cheeks flush in jealousy at this girl who I did not know and Erik chuckled sombrely, "My dear, she is nothing compared to you, I wouldn't worry about it. Anyway, unlike her father, she was a very stubborn, demanding girl and of course she wanted to see what I hid behind the mask. I refused her every time until she grew so angry that her father got sick of her behaviour and bade me to remove the mask just so she would stop her moaning. So I did, on the roof of their three floored house. She was so shocked and sickened by what she saw that she moved backwards over the railing and fell to her death. I left that night and never looked back. I don't know if Lucius is still alive but I deeply regret that moment.  
'And so, onwards. Really... I wasn't doing much at all. By then I was a very angry, confused twenty year old man who was very bitter towards everyone. I was a street magician for a while, travelling across Russia until I met someone who has been a thorn in my side ever since. You met him the other day."

"The Daroga?" Erik nodded solemnly, rolling his head and groaned.

"The Daroga. The most persistent, annoying little man I have ever met. He found me in Russia, my skills had been wide spread you see and enticed me back to his homeland of Persia. I wish now that I never went. That was where the darkest part of my life unfolded... Are you sure you want to hear what I have to say?" I nodded and he sighed, shaking his head, "Very well. Very much like little old England, Persia was controlled by monarchy, the Shah and the Khanum, the Shah's mother. Both of them were incredibly evil, sadistic people who enjoyed watching people be tortured for fun. They were horrible. I went along because the Daroga promised me respect, power... everything I had been denied in my past so I thought... why not? At first, I was a magician to entertain the Shah who was an overgrown baby being controlled by his mother. Then they got interested in the mask and made me remove it. The Khanum loved it and had me scare these poor servants around the palace, until things got a bit more darker. You see, the head mason who was in the process of building a new palace for the two royals was suddenly called in and executed for being slovenly. The Khanum liked things being done quickly. So, I offered to take his place and the palace was finished in no times. The Palace of Mazenderan. It was beautiful, it really was. I included many hidden tunnels and tricks in the palace and something that I was requested to build. A torture chamber, a maze of mirrors which delighted her. This is where I am going to add in that I started being reluctant to doing their bidding so they gave me drugs, like Hashish which I got hooked on and morphine... lets just say morphine dulled the pain when they whipped me for not doing what they asked. It dulled the pain, took me to another world. I was like their little puppet, doing what they commanded, all because of the drugs. As time went by, my sadistic side started to come out and the Khanum had me become her own personal assassin. I'd chase people round in the maze of mirrors, revealing my face, frightening them. After days in the chamber the sun would affect them the most as it reflected off all of the mirrors creating the sensation of being trapped in a desert. I'd kill them once they reached exhaustion and begged for death and I'd snap their necks with my lasso. Sometimes, I went insane and it got a bit bloody but... I blame the drugs. I called it the Rosy hours of Mazenderan... as there was so much death. This went on for a few years, until the Daroga grew fed up of seeing me treated like a puppet, you see he liked to think I was his _friend._ He weaned me off the drugs and let me stay at his house, though he had the strangest way of making me return to my normal self by locking me in a room with no drugs and just water and bread. It was the most horrific experience ever, I thought my head was going to explode and the crave was so strong that I almost damaged my hands by beating on the door so much. When it was over, he let me out and that is when I met his son..."

"He has a son?" I asked, in confusion.

"Had... He died when he was nine. He was a very sickly boy with a wasting disease, but it never stopped him from being the brightest little boy he could be. He was the only one who accepted me right away and never asked about the mask. I made him toys, gave him sweets... we would prank his father together. And then one day, Reza got very ill and it only got progressively worse. He was in a lot of pain, coughing up blood... it was very nasty. He wept all the time and I couldn't stand it so I created this concoction that would send him to sleep forever and told Nadir-"

"Nadir? Is that the Daroga's name?" Erik rolled his eyes and nodded before carrying on.

"Yes. Anyway, I told him that it would stop the pain Reza was in forever and at first, he refused. He wanted to let Allah heal him, but I had to tell him it was madness. I called him many names, saying how his boy was in a lot of pain and he was only making it worse. So he agreed. I gave Reza the drink and he slipped away with the most peaceful look on his face. After the death of his son, Nadir did not want to stay in the country and neither did I so I requested leave from the Khanum and Shah. Of course, they refused and actually imprisoned me so that I could not leave. I was whipped into unconsciousness for my disobedience and by the time Nadir came for me in the dead of the night, my wounds were so infected I could barely stand. But we slipped away without anyone noticing... We headed straight to France though it was the toughest journey I've ever had to make. It took me months to recover, mentally and physically. I ended up here, in Paris and helped Charles Garnier build this magnificent place and I've been ever since. I met you and... well you know the rest. I vowed to Nadir I would never murder again and here I am with more blood on my hands because I am a monster. But, now you why I do what I do. It's the way I've lived. I cannot change who I am Christine. I see red and I snap. I care too much about the people I love and that is you Christine. Do you understand...?"

It took me many moments for me to take in his story before I found myself nodding. Listening to how cruelly Erik had been treated in his life made me understand him as a person. It wasn't his fault. It was humanities. If he had been treated like a wild beast, then he wouldn't act the way he acts now. It made me understand that the man before me was a very broken, damaged man in need of desperate help and there was no way I could turn my back on him now after what he had told me. Yes, I was furious over the death of Philippe, and was still having difficulty processing a forgiving mind towards that but... at the end who's fault really was it? Erik's? Philippe's? Or the world that had turned Erik away at every turn and degraded him, making him believe he was a monster. Then, another realisation hit me... After all of that, he came to my aid when I needed him the most and comforted me. He helped me get through my grief despite everything he had endured and was the most caring person I had by my side.

"You mean to tell me that after all of that pain you had to endure, you helped through my grief and never left my side? You became my angel of music and tutored me to greatness? Why?" Erik shrugged, looking slightly shocked that I hadn't berated him.

"I knew what it was like to be lonely. I didn't want someone as young as yourself to be feeling the same way I had felt when I was a child."

"Erik... I... I don't know what to say."

"Say that I am a wicked person? That I am a disgusting excuse for a human being? That I'm a monster?" He suggested drolly.

"No.. you're not."

"Did you just completely ignore everything I just said?" He asked, incredulous.

"Yes but... none of it was your fault Erik. The gypsies pushed you to a breaking point, Claudia was accidental and you weren't even in the right mental state in Persia, it was the Shah and the drugs that controlled you. You were forced in to doing what you did by the true monsters of the world and yet you still found it in your heart to be the companion of a very lonely, grieving girl who did not think she would survive without your companionship. You... You saved me in a way. I didn't think I could go on without my father but you showed me there was more to the world and you made me want to live. I owe everything to you Erik and whilst I am still angry at you about Philippe, I... I can understand why in weird way. But... Your my best friend. I'm not going to sacrifice that, not after everything you've been through and gave to me at the end of the day. Thank you Erik. Really... I appreciate it." He looked at me as if I had gone mad, but I saw a small tear escape from his eye.

"You're crazy Christine." He muttered, "How can you still be here when you know I am a monster."

"But you're not a monster. You're my dear friend. And for that, I am grateful." Erik was now struggling to blink back the tears and he looked away ashamed.

"I-I... I need some time alone." He uttered quickly, moving from his seat so quickly that I had to run to catch up with him.

"Erik... Wait!" I grabbed his hand and made him turn to face me.

"How are you still standing here?" He cried, self loathing evident in his eyes. But I said nothing in return. I wrapped my arms tightly around his torso and pressed my face in to his chest.

"I'm sorry Erik. For everything you had to go through. I am so, so sorry." He did not reply, only returned the embrace and cried into my hair. I felt his heart beat quickly so I pressed my lips against his chest and gave it a small kiss before I started crying myself. We stood like this for a while, the only light coming off a diluted gas lamp on the wall with the sound of a grandfather clock chiming in the distance. It was just Erik and me. One of us was a very broken, damaged human being and I intended to help him with all of my might. Because... Oh heck standing here I knew. I knew from the moment I first heard his voice. I knew that I loved him. I took everything what he had done in to my mind and tried to understand it. I was doing my best, but I knew that no matter what I would love this man till the end of time and nothing was ever going to change that.

 **A/N WOW! That was a flipping long chapter! As usual, all rights go to Gaston Leroux etc and I don't own any of the characters.**


	14. Chapter 14

**I am so sorry... Just been lacking inspiration/ motivation! Thank you for the reviews! Lets carry on, shall we? Perhaps we should try a different P.O.V today...**

 **ERIK**

I was so confused. I had just told Christine my deepest, darkest secrets and yet here she was, _embracing_ me like I was a normal human being. Even I knew I wasn't, the deformity that marred me like a brand told me that, I knew the anger in me was of demonic roots. Yet she insisted that I was not a monster... how could she say that after all of the murders I had committed? I was desperate to probe her more, make her explain herself a bit more clearly but I didn't want to break up this moment we were sharing. It was... strange. The first time she had hugged me had been quick and feather light, yet this one was long in duration and full of care. She even kissed my chest... _kissed_ it. I've never been kissed before, but here this amazing woman that stood in my arms had kissed an ugly scar that tore its way across my chest and it felt so good. She was the first one to break away from the embrace and I immediately felt cold without her against me. I wished she had never done that for now I craved her touch as well as her being and voice.

"It's ok Erik. I'm here for you." She soothed, placing her hand on my cheek which I still realised was exposed. I think this was the longest I had ever gone without it. To my surprise, I realised I was still crying so I roughly wiped my tears away, sniffing as I did so. Honestly I felt like I was a little boy again, it was disgusting. I noticed how she rolled her eyes at this action and removed my hands away from my face. "You are allowed to cry, Erik. It's not forbidden." Christine smiled, taking my hands in hers.

"I am sorry. I hate crying. It makes me look weak... Can't be ruining my reputation, can I?" She huffed in annoyance.

"Well good thing it is just you and me down here. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone that the mighty opera ghost cries." I laughed lightly at her little remark, marvelling out how she was managing to cheer me up after having to recall my sad sorry life.

"Erik... Have you ever gone back home? I mean... just to see if... she was still around?" I stiffened at the thought and shuddered. I couldn't think of anything worse that returning back to that pious little village.

"No. I haven't and I don't really care if she is alive or dead. She's dead to me anyway." She nodded in what I thought was understanding but what she said next nearly knocked me off of my feet.

"Maybe you should go back... Get some closure. It's obvious your childhood still haunts you... You never know, it might help. And, of course, I would go with you." I stared at her, incredulous. She really wanted me to do this, didn't she? I tried thinking of any excuse to deter her, for I knew that once an idea had been planted in her head, she would find a way to do it.

"Christine, you're not even supposed to be down here alone with me, let alone travel across the country unchaperoned." She shrugged, giving me a sly smile that I didn't like the look of.

"No one has to know... And we can pretend that we are a married couple..." I sucked in a shocked breath that I ended up choking on as I thought as me and Christine as husband and wife, both ridiculous and amazing at the same time.

"C-Christine..." I stammered, placing a hand against my forehead, "I swear you are so ahead of your time..." She blushed, tucking a hair behind her ear.

"Well... I think we should do it. After the performance is over tomorrow, we could go to Boscherville... After all it will be Christmas break and no one will be around." I knew there was no way of swaying her away from her decision so I reluctantly nodded, for this was something that I had never had any intention of doing.

"Fine Christine, you win. We leave on Wednesday. But know this," I warned, holding my finger up in front of her face, "I am not happy about this at all." I left her standing in the hallway, my feet carrying me to my music room where I let out all of my pent up anguish and anger on the piano. Thinking about Wednesday only made my playing worse so I stopped and sighed in frustration. This wasn't what I was expecting to happen at all.

 **A/N Ja i know short and a bit boring, as usual I don't own any of the characters, all rights go to Gaston Leroux etc..**.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N As an apology for my tardiness, I have decided to post a new chapter for you! Back in the mind of Christine...**

 **Masked Man 2: Just you wait ;)**

 **Lotte Who: Thank you! :)**

Wednesday came around in no time, much to my joy and Erik's despair. I had completed all of my performances with a flourish, it seemed to please him but he hadn't been very focused of late, probably because of the impending journey that he was about to take. We hadn't talked since that night in the lair... The next day he had taken me up to the opera house so that I could get on with my rehearsals, though he scarcely made an appearance, much to the apparent joy of the managers. Another person that I had not seen around was Raoul, though I thought that was best considering the new information I had gleaned off Erik. I didn't think I'd be able to stomach meeting him knowing that I was covering for my best friend down in the murky depths of the opera house who had murdered his brother. Meg hadn't really spoken to me either, but she gave me the occasional smile. I knew she had told her mother as she kept giving me concerned glances from across the rehearsal room and at every moment she had she would try and take me aside and probe me about my involvement with him. I answered with short, uninformative answers. Not that I didn't trust her, she was like a mother to me but I knew a certain someone wouldn't appreciate me gossiping about him.

Anyway, here I stood, on the pebbled shore in front of his house, waiting for him to gather his bits and pieces together. I brought with me a small carpet bag with the essentials for I did not know how long we would be away for. My warmest cloak was wrapped around my shoulders, lending me great comfort as I shrank from the icy cold air surrounding me, my flesh prickled with goose bumps. He eventually emerged from his cosy haven looking absolutely disgruntled making my heart lurch in guilt but I knew that this would help him out whether he liked it or not. He too had a small bag of belongings, though it made me laugh quietly to myself as said bag slipped clumsily out of his hands, his things scattering everywhere as he had forgotten to lock it, making him curse in frustration. He must've heard me laugh for he gave me such a scathing look that my smile immediately dropped and set me into action, helping him gather his stuff and return it to his bag. He did not say a word of thanks after, merely stormed off waiting for me to follow him through the dank corridors whose walls were wet with damp. We emerged finally at a grate in the wall, the smell of fresh air wafting through making me aware that we were about to emerge in to the streets of Paris. Of course, it was dark with no one around, Erik's decision as he hated walking about Paris with a passion. Outside, a carriage awaited us, a man trussed up in fine, dark clothing that looked incredibly warm, with the reigns for what looked like two chestnut coloured horses standing there, nostrils flaring as they whinnied in anticipation. Erik walked up to the man, spoke a few curt words and threw his bag into the carriage, before holding the door open for me and helping me in. At least he still had the courtesy to be a gentleman to me, though he still had a frosty demeanour towards me.

"Erik..?" I started to say but he gave me a look that told me he wasn't in the mood, but I ignored him, "Erik look... I know you don't want to do this but I honestly think this will help you out. I am here for you every step of the way," I beseeched, reaching forward to grasp his hand in mine, "I will support you in this. Don't think you have to face it alone." His eyes lost their cold, flint like look and simmered to a gentle warmth.

"Thank you Christine." A sudden look of realisation passed across his face and he reached into his pocket to withdraw a black velvet box which he held out to me, "Before I forget, a necessity for you." I took the box from his hand and flipped open the lid to be met by the most beautiful looking ring I had ever lain my eyes on.

"Oh Erik... It's stunning." I gasped, taking it out and slipping it on my left ring finger, admiring the small cut diamonds as the sparkled in the soft light of the cabin. He smiled quickly before reverting to his phantasmal self.

"Don't worry, it's only temporary. Let our journey begin, Madame Destler." I found myself wishing it wasn't but I did not say anything, merely rolled my eyes at his remark and sat back in to my seat, admiring my ring every now and then. Sighing, I looked out of the window at the fuzzy shapes that passed by, barely decipherable in the murky darkness, knowing that I had a very long journey ahead of me with a very sullen, unhappy Phantom.

 **A/N Don't own any characters, all rights go to Gaston Leroux etc**


	16. Chapter 16

It took the majority of the night to reach Boscherville, by the time we reached the outskirts of the small village the sun was cresting up in the horizon, flooding the small place in a pretty, yolk coloured light. The cottages were quaint and beautiful, some with thatched roofs, others resembled small townhouses as they sat nearer the centre. Russet coloured bricks were damp with dew, one house we passed had a great tangling vine of ivy crawling across it, framing the windows prettily as the sun glinted across the glass. All of this I saw with eager eyes as I processed the village in which Erik was born, though the only thing he was processing was the burgundy carpet beneath his feet. I noticed his hands tremble slightly before they clenched in to tight fists, his face a picture of steely determination. I did not know what was going through his mind but I could sense it wasn't anything to good. The carriage slowed to a stop outside a large inn called 'The Three Hens', which was a vanilla coloured establishment with honey coloured window frames and a thatch roof, with smoke billowing out of a small brick chimney that sat squat on top. Erik peered out quickly, grimaced, then opened up his bag from which he pulled out a rosewood box embellished with pearl roses on the lid. The lid flipped up and to my amazement there sat a mask, flesh coloured at resembling that of a human face devoid of eyes or a mouth. He hesitated slightly, eyeing me from his dark little corner.

"Would you mind closing your eyes?" He asked politely, and seeing as I was tired and in no mood to put up a fuss I did as he said, listening to him rummage around and huff in frustration. When he told me that I could open my eyes, I had to do a double take for his face... it looked human. The flesh coloured mask in the box actually resembled a face when he put it on and my eyes widened at the sight, for he actually looked... handsome.

"Oh my gosh..." I found myself whispering, reaching forward to touch his new creation, "How did you do this?" He laughed slightly and grasped my hand in his.

"Many nights of experimenting and trying out new things... This turned out to be the better solution. What do you think?"

"I-I... It looks real... It's amazing..." I couldn't stop touching it making him chuckle at my curiosity.

"I might have to wear this all of the time if that is your reaction to it." I shook my head firmly, returning my wondering hands to my lap.

"No. Please don't. I prefer looking at the real you." He raised an eyebrow at the statement but did not say anything in return, merely held the door open for me and allowed me to get out. The air was crisp with freshness making me guzzle it in greedily, for being able to smell this wonderful country air instead of the city smells certainly was a treat. Erik took my bag and his before tipping the driver who nodded his head in thanks and set off down the beaten track, the horses kicking up clouds of dust as they went. We stood in an awkward silence before he ushered me in to the inn where we were greeted by a kindly receptionist who sorted us out a room. She looked skeptical that we were couple, for even if Erik did appear normal, he was still frightfully tall and menacing and could easily be a rogue getting up to no good. I won her over with smiles and polite conversation, snaking my hand in the crook of Erik's arm where I felt him tense at my touch. Eventually the good lady escorted us up to our room, unlocked the door and showed us in, gesturing to where the bathroom was and that if we needed anything then we shouldn't hesitate to ask, before she left us standing side by side in the room. Both of our eyes had been adverted to the huge King size bed in the room and I knew we were probably thinking the same thing... Were we going to share or was someone going to sleep on the sofa tucked away in the corner by the blazing fire.

"I'll sleep on the sofa." Erik muttered, dragging his feet over to where the sofa sat before dumping his stuff on the ground next to him. I placed my bag on the end of the bed, watching Erik warily as he thudded over to the window, unlatched it and threw it open, gazing at the scenery around him. "It hasn't changed at all." I heard him murmur as he inspected the bustling village life in the distance, so I went over and joined him, noting how a large forest had sprouted on the right and in the centre was the village, a fifteen minute walk at least.

"Where did you live?" I asked, watching him as he slowly took it all in. He scanned the area and pointed towards a large church that towered above the rest of the buildings, it's roof of harsh grey slate like a large blur against the blue sky.

"Next to that church. I could hear them play the organ when it was Sunday Mass. I guess that's what first got me interested in music. You can't see the house, the forest is hiding it. I spent a lot of my time in those woods when I could." He sighed a juddering breath and drew away from the window. "So what do you want to do? Rest or... get on with it?"

"That, my dear, is entirely up to you." I said, crossing my arms over my chest. He thought for a moment before shrugging and eyed the sofa with interest. "We've had a long journey. I'd rather we be refreshed before we start this." I nodded in agreement and flopped down on to the bed, pulling the comforter over me which was very plump and soft. Erik took a blanket from the bed, kicked off his shoes and lay down on the sofa, his hands behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling lost in thought. It took me a few moments before my eyes grew heavy and began to shut, my brain heavy with anticipation as to what I was about to witness when we finally took the journey to where it all happened.

 **A/N Don't own any characters, all rights go to Gaston Leroux etc**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N** All I can say is sorry for the wait...

It was with great reluctance that my heavy lids opened to the sight of an empty room, pierced by soft spears of sunlight that illuminated thousands of dust particles dancing in a dizzy parade of pirouettes through the air. The silence surrounding me was heavy, with only the harsh trill of a magpie singing outside the window that overlooked the dense forest. It was a very beautiful sound and I found myself humming along, enjoying the familiar soft vibrations that rattled inside my throat, letting out a serene song.

I was content, here in this plush bed, surrounded by sunlight and actual fresh air, not the stagnant, chilled replacement of air that lingered around like a bad smell in Erik's lair. It was here I imagined that I was on my honeymoon with Erik, like a normal couple, enjoying the sunlight and nature around us... where we would walk into the village, arms linked, pointing out ornaments that we could put in our new home. It saddened me that Erik believed he was damned to a solitude of darkness in his hulking cavern of rock, composing music that would never reach the ears of the people that roamed above him. I wondered where he was now. No doubt prowling about in the closest abyss of darkness he could find, amongst the heady pine trees that seemed to brush against the cotton wool clouds, dragging down tendrils that dissipated into a crawling mist on the floor. I watched the mist lurk at the edge of the forest, like vampires too scared to go out in to the light in case they disappeared in a flash, when my eyes caught movement at the mess of brambles that bordered the golden dirt track from the forest. It was Erik, lurking in the darkness, squinting around him before he took a giant leap over the brambles and landed squarely on the track before he loped over to the inn. His whole posture screamed discomfort, so rigid was his back that I believed his spine had been coated with ice that refused to crack. When he entered the room, I sucked in a breath at the obvious tension that radiated off his body, his eyes two blazing molten gold suns that were filled with such deep anxiety that I wished I had never suggested this trip in the first place. His golden eyes bored into mine and like sand sifting through fingers, I watched as that anxiety melted away in to something akin of deep adoration that made my cheeks flame up like two cherry tomatoes.

"Christine," he breathed, drifting over to my side, "You're awake." I held out my hand which he took hesitantly, leading him to sit down by me on the bed.

"How long were you in the forest for?" I asked, keeping his hand in mine, ghosting my thumb over his pale knuckles. He wasn't wearing his gloves.

"A few hours." He murmured, his eyes concentrating on the entwining of our hands.

"What were you doing?"

"Quiet reflection. How are you feeling? Refreshed?" I nodded and stretched like a cat, disconnecting my hand from his so I could reach my arms up high above my head, making him laugh.

"What is the time?" I said with a yawn, brushing sleep out of my eyes. He withdrew the intricate golden pocket watch that he kept in supreme condition and glanced at the black hands that ticked along, counting down the seconds until we finally gathered courage to face his childhood.

"It is half past two. What would you like to do? Are you hungry?" My hand drifted to my stomach which was gnawing itself in hunger and nodded enthusiastically, swinging my legs over the bed and onto the floor.

"Yes. Perhaps a walk into the village to find a nice cafe?" He tensed at the idea but acquiesced, allowing me a few moments in privacy to get myself ready. I joined him in the hallway after a few minutes, gripping my cloak tight around my body as the cold bit at my body and we walked slowly out of the inn and towards the village. We walked in silence, side by side until we reached the first house on the borders of the village, where Erik stilled and stared in stony silence at the village before him. Taking his hand, I gave it a reassuring squeeze and together we walked hand in hand into the village, prepared for whatever faced us.

 **don't own any characters, all rights go to Gaston Leroux, etc**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N - I felt bad for taking ages to post so here is the next chapter!**

The village was quaint, beautiful, with typical chocolate box cottages that you'd often see clustered around a stormy cliff in England. It had a sleepiness to it that made it seem very unlike the hectic, fragmented village that resonated in Erik's head, and people actually smiled at us as we walked past, hand in hand. Women bustled around in dirt fringed dresses and grubby aprons, with drooping jowls and absent gazes as they got on with their daily chores. Chubby hands grasped at woven baskets filled to the brim with vegetables that looked like they had just been pulled out of the earth that very second. Ladies of leisure loped around in prim outfits, hands encased in delicate white lace gloves that rested against skirts of primrose yellow and rose pink. They would laugh, flirt, tease the elderly gentlemen that bustled back and forth in slate grey suits and top hats. It was a very queer merging of worlds that seemed to get along side by side with each other, the well off villagers sometimes interacting with the ragamuffins that ran screaming with laughter through cold muddy puddles in the street. All in all it seemed like a very homely place, but I could tell by Erik's grip on my hand that this was his idea of hell. He directed me to a small cafe that sat crooked on the corner, and deciding it was too hot inside, we took a seat on the cobbled porch just outside a large french window of the cafe.

It over looked several fields that glistened with tangled grass, swaying in the wind whereupon I spotted a church in the distance, the path that led to it no doubt well trodden by the generations of families that visited it's great aching belly of spiritual presence. It was surrounded by a ring of headstones and a black, wrought iron fence and though I decided that it was a welcome sight for the villagers, to me it appeared like a rising menace from the ground, it's unfriendly appearance giving me the chills. Erik sat opposite me, fidgeting in his seat and his eyes flickered from building to building, then to the villagers, to the small children that played only centimetres away from our feet. Their screams of joy made him flinch and he closed his eyes, took three deep breaths before picking up the small menu that awaited his attention before him. The owner of the cafe, a buxom lady with fiery red hair and a squint in one eye came over and took our order, gave Erik a lingering look of wariness before disappearing back in to the sweltering heat of the cafe. My eyes roamed back towards the church and surprised that I didn't see it before, I spotted a small dark house just on the outskirts of the forest. I found myself gasping in surprise as the sudden realisation of what I was looking at hit me. From the inn, I couldn't see it but from where I sat in the village it was there, in plain sight. I was looking at Erik's house. He must have noticed my surprise for he leant forward and placed a few fingers on my arm, not daring to travel down to where my hand sat clenched near the edge of the table.

"Christine?" He questioned, peering over the top of my head as I stared back at him in shock. I registered the dismay in his eyes as he too saw what I had been looking at, withdrew his hand and collapsed back in to his seat, staring at the house that held so much torment for him. "It still stands." I heard him say, his eyes awash with pain.

"That... That is it... Isn't it?" I whispered in disbelief, turning again to get a look at the house. It was very unlike the other houses that sat around us, it's white wood panelling glaring in the sun, hurting my eyes if I stared at it too long. The land lady interrupted my intense gaze as she banged the tray down on the table and dispelled the pot of tea and cups that we had ordered, as well as some madeleines and snow white macaroons arranged neatly on a pretty looking china plate. Erik served me some tea, his hand trembling slightly as he still reeled from shock at the sight of his house, sipping quickly at the scalding hot liquid. I popped a macaroon in my mouth, observing his pinched features, his wide golden eyes that blinked slowly, almost owlishly as they adverted themselves from the white speck in the distance. His normally ramrod back slumped slightly, his legs like two long pipe cleaners that had been pressed against the rim of the table stretched out beneath my seat, his heels scraping along the cobbled stones beneath him. I was certain that had he not already had a pale disposition then he'd be as white as a ghost judging by his disbelieving reaction.

"Yes. That is it." He mumbled, his words falling heavily out of lips that would not work.

"You seem surprised that it is still there." I sipped at my tea, relishing it's heat that travelled through my body, warming my soul.

"I had always hoped it would burn to the ground along with the occupants inside." He muttered darkly, his eyes a simmering pot of rage as he thought of his mother that could still be there like a ghost, wondering the corridors of her home. It didn't take him long to register what he had just said as he sat up a little bit straighter and apologised profusely for his unseemly behaviour. "Forgive me, Christine. Just seeing that house dredges up unwelcome memories."

"It is ok," I said, "I understand." And I did. I had to cross myself in my mind as the wicked words of Erik danced like a welcome thought throughout my mind. It did not take us long for us to finish our tea and snacks, my stomach fully satisfied as I stood up and brought my cloak tighter around my shoulders. I watched Erik unfold his awkward limbs from underneath the table, his sharp shoulder blades jutting out from underneath his jacket that made it look like he was about to grow wings. He flexed his wrists and adjusted his sleeves as they had rolled up slightly and exposed the linen bandages that still covered his wounds from all of those nights before. Taking his hand in mine, we strolled along through the village, occasionally stopping to look in the windows of a few shops though I knew Erik had no interest in what they had to offer. I knew he was trying to stall for time but soon enough we reached the crest of the hill that wound itself down to the church below in it's halo of wilderness, with a less trodden path spiralling off towards the white house by the forest. With feet like lead, we traversed down the track, admiring the toadflax and lavender that dotted the wild grass around us, before we reached the road that led away from the church and to more familiar grounds. The sun had just begun to dip below the craggy hilltops that encased the two solitary buildings, casting a gentle dim of light over the house making it appear very serene and welcoming, though I very much doubted the inside would tell the same story. Erik stalled once again, standing for a very long time in the open staring at the house, waiting for the light to fade even more so before he began approaching the house. By the time we reached the house, the sun had completely disappeared, leaving the moon to do it's work and cast it's ghostly light on the world around us. We reached a white picket fence and gate with a rusted latch, the wood cold underneath our hands as we rested against the barrier of Erik's childhood.

"C-Christine," He choked, "I d-dont think I-I..." He trailed off, looking away from the house as a barrage of old memories seemingly attacked him.

"Why don't I knock, see if there is anyone in there? Then I could come and get you, if you wish."

"I did not wish for any of this to happen but look where I am now." He snapped, before letting out a deep sigh as he saw me flinch at his harsh tone, "I am sorry Christine. If you could... I'd be very grateful." I nodded in understanding, undid the latch and took a step over the threshold. Before I went any further, I asked Erik what his mothers name was, incase I had to ask for her.

"Madeline Destler." He said with barely concealed anger as he crossed his matchstick arms over his chest. I turned to face the building, taking hesitant steps towards the door where I was met by what I believed was a powder blue door, though it was hard to discern in the light and rapped firmly three times. It did not take long for the door to open and when it did, I knew straight away who I was staring at. Those eyes, large and always suspicious of things going on around them, the raven black hair that was streaked with ripples of silver, coiled back in to a bun. Long, elegant hands of a pianist gripped the edge of the door and the tapered candle that created a bubble of light around us, and she looked surprised to see a stranger standing at her door.

"Can I help you my dear?" She said in a voice so soft and familiar that I felt my tongue sit heavily in my mouth, the words barely getting past my lips.

"Excuse me, I was just wondering... Does Madeline Destler still reside here?" Her eyes widened at the mention of her name, the door opening a little bit more to reveal more of Erik's world.

"Why yes. I am she." I felt an overwhelming surge of emotion wash over me, surprise, anger and disgust as I stared agog at the lady who had made Erik's early life a living hell. "What can I help you with?" I sensed there was something hopeful in her eyes, her life depending on the words that i was about to utter.

"I... I have news... on your son." She gasped, her hand fluttering up to her throat where she squeezed it slightly in what seemed to be an attempt to stop any noise being emitted from it.

"Y-you do? You know where he is?" Confused, I cocked my head at her enthusiasm.

"I do."

"Where is my child?" I did not even have to beckon him over as I felt his electric presence drift closer to my figure, and I turned slightly, surprised to see he had changed his mask in the short amount of time I had been away from his side. His menacing black mask that he favoured so much loomed in to view, causing his mother to gasp loudly in shock, her eyes travelling up his tall, solid form that blotted out the dusty rays of the moonlight to his furious golden eyes that bore down on her small figure.

"Good evening, Mother." He hissed in such an unpleasant tone that it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Madeline stared up in wonder, shock and horror at the son she had abused from the moment he was born. She was silent for a while, her eyes glazing over with tears.

"Good evening, Erik." Was all that she replied before her eyes rolled back and she fell backwards onto the floor, extinguishing the candle as she fell, leaving Erik and I standing over her body in the cold white light of the moon.

 **YEAHHHHHHHHH that was fun! REUNION TIMEEE! as per usual, don't own any characters and all rights go to gaston leroux etc**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N- Not A Ghost3- Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed it! Sorry for the wait, here goes! :)**

A impregnated silence swallowed our three lone figures standing in the hazy light of the moon, two of us gazing down at the prone, white body of Madeline Destler. In this light, her features looked harsher and cruel, but perhaps it was the bright moonlight enhancing her sallow features. She had not aged well. Erik stared down at her with indifference, nudging her head gingerly with his shoe so that it lolled like back and forth like the top heavy head of a doll. She did not respond. I stooped down, placing two of my fingers against her shrivelled throat to find a pulse, relieved to feel it there pulsating under my fingers, a steady throb of rhythm keeping her alive. Before I could even ask Erik as to what we should do, footsteps sounded from inside the house, slapping against the wooden floor like wet fish until a blustered and somewhat panicked face was revealed in the hallway. A man, no bigger than I and beer bellied stood squinting at us like we were apparitions until he too nearly dropped his candle in fright. He muttered something under his breath, but I was unable to hear and approached us with such caution that you'd think we were two lions escaped from the zoo looking for our next meal. A sound, a moan, a grumble... something drawled out of Madeline's throat, her eyes creaking open, a hand flying up to her head as if she had just been hit with a bat. She looked at the man in the hallway, eyes full of confusion before turning to us where the pools of oceanic blue widened even more at the sight of Erik who stood glaring at her body, my hand pressed against his abdomen in an attempt to stop him from doing something drastic. It was like pressing my hand against a block of steel, unyielding and full of tension. In a scrabble, the man reached for Madeline after placing the candle on the floor, grasping her shaking hands in his whilst never taking his eyes off the pair of us. She gawped like a fish, mouth shutting and closing, throat dry from words and questions, eyes watering in the corners. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, she squeezed the hands of the man, and let whatever she had pent up tumble out of her mouth like a spout gushing water.

"Erik? Is that really you? Are you really my Erik? Have you returned to me? Erik?" Erik's anger seeped from his very being like a volcano spewing out lava as he glared down at her.

"How many other masked freaks do you know?" He snapped, "And I am not _yours_ , I haven't been _yours_ since the moment I was born!"

"B-but I mothered you, I-"

"Mothered?!" Erik practically bellowed as I stood in the doorway, blocking him from doing any harm, my back pressed hard against his stomach, "You wouldn't know the first thing about being a mother! I don't think mothers lock their sons away in the attic in disgust! I don't think mothers beat their sons until they are numb to the touch! Or is that your own little twisted way of thinking what mothering is, hmm?"

"E-Erik p-please.." She choked, "I didn't mean to..." Erik leered forward, his eyes sparking with rage.

"I still have the scars to prove how twisted you are." He muttered darkly, making the hairs on my neck stand on end. Awkward silence followed, the only sound the ticking of a grandfather clock somewhere in the distance.

"Let's all just calm down... why don't you come in? Talk about things inside where it is warm..." The fat man bumbled, placing his hands on her shoulders to draw her away from the doorway.

"No." "Yes." We both said at the same time, earning me an incredulous look from Erik.

"No way." He said, eyes glowering from the black mask. I placed my hand on his arm, feeling his muscles coiled like tight springs beneath his jacket and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Erik, I know you don't want to but this needs to be resolved. For your sake. Please?" I spoke in my softest voice possible, one I knew that Erik would be unable to resist should I need anything of him. I let my hand skirt up his arm and rested it on the hard surface of his mask, cupping his cheek as tenderly as possible. I felt him take a quick intake of breath, watched his eyes shut out his glowing orbs before he nodded tersely.

"Fine. Fine." I turned to the man and nodded, allowing him to lead Madeline away and give us room to step into the house. Erik had to stoop as he stepped over the threshold, looking around the house in barely concealed disgust. The man appeared at another door further down the hallway and gestured for us to come in.

"Is that Ettienne?" I whispered to him as he led me slowly down the hall, my eyes taking in the surroundings as we walked by.

"No. I have no idea who that is." He grumbled, blinking as the harsh light from the parlour flooded through into the hallway, creating a beacon of warmth in the dark, cold house. The room was small in size and sparsely decorated, a few chairs arranged around a grey stoned fireplace with a marble slab in front, on which stood a iron wrought miniature coat stand holding a poker, brush and dustpan. The grandfather clock sat in the corner, a big slab of mahogany wood with a silvery clock face, appearing rather like a small tomb of sorts. The one thing that caught my eye however was a mirror in the middle of the room on the furthest wall, with a golden frame, a large surface of glass that Erik cringed at the sight of and immediately adverted his gaze to a bureau desk laden with small ornaments and white doilies. When I noticed him start I looked around his body at the bureau and noticed that there were also some pictures... drawings... drawings which had undoubtedly been drawn by Erik when he was a small boy. His eyes widened at the realisation but he did not say anything, merely stared at them as if the frames had started sprouting tendrils of ivy.

"You're very tall." His mother suddenly said, catching his attention. He shifted his feet so that he was facing her square on, folded his arms behind his back and made himself even taller making her shrink back a little in fear.

"Who is that?" Erik asked, gesturing to the red faced man who was currently dabbing at his forehead with a small blue handkerchief. He gulped and held out his hand to shake Erik's but he merely shook his head, causing the man to quickly withdraw it to his side.

"I-I am Frederick St Clair, y-your s-s-step father. I m-married your mother eleven years ago." I imagine Erik raised his eyebrow at this but of course that was indiscernible due to the mask. He looked as if he was going to say something but thought against it.

"And who is this?" Madeline asked, gesturing towards me. Erik looked down at me, giving me the softest of smiles though his eyes screamed anxiety and brought me forward to stand in front of him.

"This is Christine... my wife." A barely inaudible gasp escaped from Madeline as she looked me up and down with wonder.

"Y-your wife?"

"Hmm yes, would you believe it?" He sneered, his lip curling in anger, "The little demon got himself a loving wife."

"Erik..." I warned, for I knew how much he was enjoying himself right now. Madeline gave him a cautious glance, swallowed thickly and looked away in to the flames of the fire, sadness etched into every crevice of her face. Frederick rocked back and forth on his heels, gave a low whistle and clapped his hands loudly, announcing that he was going to go make some tea. "I'll help you." I quickly blurted out, earning a scathing look from Erik that he had to be left alone in a room with the women he hated the most but it had to be done. I gave him one more sorry glance before closing the door on them both, turning to face Frederick who looked like he was about to be physically ill.

"I do not want to be in that room at the moment." He stated bluntly, turning on his heel before marching off down in to the kitchen, with me following meekly behind at his heels. I did not hear anything from the parlour room, no speaking, no shouting... Just a heavy silence that suffocated the whole house, drenching it in unbearable tension that I felt constantly on edge as I entered the kitchen, watching Frederick bustle about grabbing cups and saucers. He muttered under his breath, slammed down boxes and cups, flung on the tap whilst I watched him in dazed amusement. This was going to go two ways and I could only hope it would go down the better road.

 **A/N Don't own any characters apart from Freddie, he's mine! All rights go to Gaston Leroux etc**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N Not a Ghost3- thanks! yeh well it's never going to be smiles and happiness is it haha :P**

Should anyone have passed the window of the parlour room, they would have commented on the two, sombre looking statues, one in white and one in black, like two chess pieces waiting to be moved by the hand of God. How detailed they look, how real. Then they would move on, with their day, with their life. Little would they know that these were no statues, but mother and son, disconnected, fractured... incomplete pieces dancing on the thread of life. A mother, I had read before, was a person capable to treat a person with great kindness and love, and to try and protect them from anything difficult or dangerous. I wondered about how wonderful the mother of this author had been for him to write such a glowing review of her, how his childhood must have been growing up. Carefree, full of love and laughter, very much unlike mine. When I had left this house, I never had any intention of returning to the place that started it all. Yet here I stood, in a room with a woman who very well could have been a block of marble standing in a distracted gaze. Neither of us said anything, we did not even look at each other. I did inspect her from the corner of my eye, looked at her milky white skin which was dashed with lighting strikes of dark purple varicose veins, at her gnarled hands that gripped onto each other as if they were her lifelines. Intense eyes awash with pain stared into the simmering flames of the fire, the only movement being the slight rise and fall of her chest as she drew in breath until suddenly she bent forward, breaking her marble cast, shattering the building tension in the room. What was she doing? I watched her fully now, watched her reach for the black iron poker with a white tip, remembering how that very tip had branded the underneath of my ribs by her drunken hand. I sucked in a sharp breath startling her, the poker clattering to the marble beneath her as her hand jerked open in shock, looking at me in alarm as if she had forgotten my presence. She straightened, gave me a look of confusion, wondered why there was a look grimace of pain across my face as the memories came flooding back before realisation hit her, making her face crumble in mortification.

"The poker..." Was all the she said in shaky breath, taking a step away from the offending object, but I merely looked away and concentrated on the drawings that sat on the bureau behind me. I felt her presence ebb closer to me, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up in alarm. She did not say anything for a while, until she placed a finger on one particular drawing of a building that was encased in a black frame and tapped it. "This drawing reminds me of a building that I saw not to long ago. I was wondering if you had anything to do with it?"

"What building would that be?" I asked in monotonous voice, though I already knew what she was going to say and tried my hardest to not laugh at the irony of it all.

"The Palais Garnier, in Paris. Your stepfather and I watched a performance there a few years ago. When I first saw it, I immediately thought of how similar it was to your drawing."

"That's because I did design it. I helped Monsieur Garnier with the plans of the building and built it."

"Goodness." Was all she whispered in an awe inspired tone, looking at the fading pencil drawing on the scrap of paper that looked like it had been torn off a weathered can. "What else can you do?" How tempted I was to tell her that I had been an assassin for the Shah of Persia but I decided not to entertain her with that fact. Did you know mother, that I killed for fun when I was younger? How rich.

"I compose music, I sing. I can play a few instruments. I'm writing an Opera at the moment. I can do magic tricks and draw portraits and buildings. I can speak seven different languages, know medicine and I dabble in chemistry. That's about it." She honestly looked so amazed I had never seen anything like it.

"I've missed out on all of that?" She whispered sorrowfully, rubbing the heel of her hand against her eye in an attempt to get rid of the tears she shed. I envied her talented acting skills.

"Yes. Though I don't understand why you are crying, it's not as if you care."

"But I do! I've changed, Erik, I'm not like how I used to be."

"So if I took off my mask, you wouldn't screech in horror like you used to?" I snapped, moving away from the bureau towards the couch in the centre of the room. I was met with silence and I scoffed in amusement, "That's what I thought. But it didn't have to be like that, did it?" I probed stonily, turning around to look at her dead in the eye.

"What do you mean?" A dark, unamused chuckle growled from my throat like a warning threat from a tiger, my eyes glinting with malice.

"Maybe if you didn't drink that poison, I could have had a normal life. We could have had a normal mother and son relationship. But you _ruined_ that." She blanched, her skin growing even more paler than usual, eyes widened making her eyes look like two large pools of water.

"How do you know about that?" She whispered, horrified.

"I have my ways." Was all that I said, sitting down on the arm of the couch, arms crossed over my bony chest as I glared up at her.

"Erik, I'm sorry... I was a young girl, I wasn't ready for a baby... I wasn't ready for your father to share love with someone else."

"So you drank some gypsies poison? If there is one thing you should know is that you should _never_ trust a gypsy. They are all liars and cheats." I hissed, thinking back to my time with those awful cretins, the horrible men that abused me like some stray dog. I could barely conceal the small shudder that ran up my back.

"And how would you know that?" She asked in disbelief.

"What do you think happened to me when I left? That I found somewhere to live? That I found a family who grew to care and love me? No, _mother,_ quite the opposite. I travelled around with some gypsies against my own free will. I was their living corpse. I was their punch bag for god knows how long until I escaped into even more destruction and pain." I stopped talking suddenly like a clam. What the hell was I doing? I didn't want her knowing any of this! Too late, I saw the horror in her eyes. I observed her hands shake by her sides with tiny tremors.

"What have I done?" She whispered, reaching out to touch me but I jerked away before she could even get close.

"Don't." I warned, stepping aside from her form. "Don't act like this, don't act like all of a sudden you care what happened to me. The only person that cares is Christine and she is the only person in the god forsaken world who has accepted me for who I am, can see past this hideous face that has blighted my whole life because of your selfish actions. You took away my right to live from the moment the poison touched your lips."

"Erik it was the only way! I was a stupid, immature, heartless girl who got what she wanted! I realise now how awful I was and I am sorry ok, I am so... so sorry," She sobbed, wiping away the rivers of tears that swept down her cheeks, "I want to amend how I was to you, let me show you that I have changed. Please, please allow me this..."

"No,"

"Yes." Another voice answered from the doorway and we both looked up in surprise to see Christine standing in the doorway, holding a tray of tea and looking very much like a Grecian goddess with her flowing tresses and vibrant, determined eyes. She stalked over, indignant in her posture, before placing the tray down on small table that rested against my shins, "I believe you do need to prove your worth for his forgiveness, for let me tell you, you have a lot of work to do. What you have done to your son is despicable, no child should be treated like that. Did you know that when Erik first met me, he wouldn't touch me for the first four months of me knowing him? Do you know why? Because he believed he was a monster and that he would taint me with his 'wickedness', words that I can only imagine have been driven into his head from the day that he was born. And you are right, you have missed out on a lot of Erik's qualities. He is by far the most amazing man that I have ever had the fortune to meet, he is kind, thoughtful, loving... wonderful. Not at all the monster that you painted him to be. The hardship he has had to suffer because of your carelessness sickens me to the core, if only you knew..." At this she faltered, her eyes pained, "If only you knew what he has been through and yet he still finds it in his heart to mentor me, a orphan close to the brink, be my friend and care for me. Your son is amazing and I hate that you couldn't see past his face to realise this." I thanked God I had my mask on because there were tears running down my cheeks and I noticed to my surprise that the watery tracks were there on my mothers old cheeks as well.

"My son has done well to find someone like you. Tell me... how can I show that I've changed?" This she directed to me, and I bit the inside of my lip in thought until suddenly like a flash of lightning, it hit me, a thought so clear that it rang through my head like a dozen bells chiming.

"I take of my mask. You look at my face with out screaming and you do the one thing you've denied me all of these years."

"What is that?" She asked, looking slightly horrified much to my glee.

"You give me a kiss."

 **A/N OOHHHHH SNAP! had fun writing this! as usual all rights go to Gaston Leroux and I don't own any of the characters**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N- Not A Ghost3- thank you again for your kind review! :)**

 _Christines' POV-_

I thought back to a time when I was nine years old, cowering under the heavy blankets of my fathers bed as a mighty storm rumbled on outside, felt his hand sifting through my hair, telling me everything was going to be ok. I thought back to a time when I was six, had fallen over on the cobbled street outside our small apartment and grazed my knee, wailed at the pinpricks of blood that dribbled over my snow white skin. Remembered his smiling face, his soft hands cradling me to his chest, his musicians fingers caring for my bloody knee and placing a soft kiss on the bandaged wound. Remembered when he used to sing me to sleep with his beautiful voice, soft and low, the violin accompanying him in a wailing serenade that made me think of the angels sitting up in heaven. When he'd buy me bonbons, toffee, fudge, when he'd tuck my hair behind my ear and tell me that I was his beautiful angel. I thought of all of this as I looked at Erik and Madeline and realised with great sorrow that he hadn't experienced any of this when he was growing up. He was angry, confused, upset. She was full of sorrow, regret and hesitation. I could see that she wanted to unhook the mask off of his face, could see that he was daring her to do so with his intense gaze that shifted over her face. Her hand reached up, stopping and starting, fingers outstretching before curling up into her fist until finally they brushed the edge of his mask and rested there, fingertips growing white from the pressure she exerted against it. I sucked in a breath, Erik flinched, Madeline chewed on her lip. Air so tense that it could be sliced through with the smallest of knives, could be punctured with a tiny pin and everything would come flooding out like a great swell of water. Then it happened. Black was replaced by pale white, what looked like anger was replaced by shock, golden eyes even more luminous and wide with surprise. Madeline did not look for a few seconds until slowly, hesitantly, she turned to look at her sons real face, lips clamped shut, eyes creasing at the side from where she failed to hide a wince. Erik looked away in discomfort, rested his gaze on me, stared at me for reassurance. I gave him a soft smile, looked at him back. Avoided the two holes that acted as his nose, the translucent lips, the sunken in eyes, instead concentrated on the clear anxious gaze he threw my way.

"It's been so long." Madeline whispered out loud, though it sounded like it should have been to herself, her free hand I noticed reached up and rested against Erik's sallow cheek. He shuddered and whimpered at her touch, his sun like eyes roving over to her, staring down at her with fear. This was an entirely new sensation for him, to be touched by a woman who had hated his very existence from the moment he was brought in to the world. A sharp gasp caught my attention, it was Frederick peeking through the gap of the door. Neither Erik or Madeline noticed, for they were too wrapped up in their own world. I looked at Frederick, watched his face drain with colour, his eyes roll to the back of his head as he staggered away, back towards the kitchen where I heard him distantly retch into the sink. Then I fixed my attention back to mother and son, watched in surprise as Madeline stood on her tiptoes, brought Erik's head down closer to her so that she could reach, whereupon she placed the softest kiss on his cheek. He was shuddering. She was crying. I'm sure I cried though I wasn't too sure. Then, she wrapped her arms around his slender form, sobbed into his chest, murmured words of regret and apologies. Erik stood there, stunned, arms hanging limp at his sides like they were made of slack elastic. He didn't respond at all, but I watched the tears drip down his cheeks as years of pent up emotion finally leaked out of him, then slowly, he gingerly placed a hand on his mothers back, made the other one join, and stood there in an awkward embrace. I left the two to reconcile to check on Frederick who I found passed out on the floor, the kitchen smelling of rank bile and disgust, face down on the floor as he breathed juddering breaths after seeing his stepsons skeleton face in the flesh. When I helped him sit up and brought him to his senses, he stared at me with shock evident in his eyes, gripped my arms, squeezed them.

"How do you put up with a face like that?" I smiled.

"Because I love him." I said, not hearing the creak of the door, nor the footstep against the floorboard, nor the intake of surprised breath. But I did hear the question that startled me and made me spin around on the wooden floor to stare up at the now masked face of Erik.

"What did you just say?" Now, it seemed, it was my time for confessions.

 **A/N- Don't own any of the characters, apart from Frederick, and all rights go to Gaston Leroux etc...**


	22. Chapter 22

**I am so sorry... Been really busy and lacked motivation to continue with this story but here I am again! Thank you for you kind reviews guys, really means a lot to me!**

I stared at him in surprise and horror as he stood cramped in the doorway, his mother poking her head through a gap with a content smile on her face, no doubt from the reunion she had wished for after many years of waiting. Erik looked at me expectantly, eyes wild with disbelief as I felt the words dry up on my tongue and my throat constrict tightly as I idiotically revealed my feelings for him. In the end it was Frederick who saved me as he staggered up on to his feet, not even daring to look straight at Erik incase any memories came flooding back to him.

"I don't doubt that, my dear, otherwise you would not have married him if you did not love him." I nodded quickly, stammering that that was a very valid point and averted my gaze from Erik to his mother instead.

"Oh you must tell me how you two met! Come, lets sit down in the parlour room and have that tea that is waiting for us." We traipsed back in the room, where Frederick stoked the fire and Madeline served the tea as Erik and I sat down on the same sofa, both jittery with nerves as we handled the delicate china in our hands with great care. He did not look at me once. Once everyone had settled, Madeline probed us both with slightly intrusive questions though one couldn't blame her after everything she had missed out on. I sat back smiling as Erik revealed with relish our first meeting, though of course pretended he was visitor at the opera and not its humble opera ghost.

"Christine is a wonderful singer. I was taking a tour around the Opera house one day and heard some beautiful angelic singing which I just had to seek out and find who it belonged to. Once I did, I was enraptured by not only her voice but kind personality and beauty. I offered some singing lessons to help her find her way on to the stage and she agreed... Now she is the leading soprano after having replaced that heinous Carlotta Guidicelli."

"Oh, I remember her... That awfully nasally woman with the fire red hair?" said Frederick, sipping at his tea. It made Erik laugh.

We talked for an age until Erik grew restless and went off to look around the house. After a while of talking to Frederick and Madeline and realising that Erik was taking his time, I excused my self and went to search for him. It did not take me long, as the ladder to the attic was down and the hatch open, a watery light seeping through the large gap in the ceiling. I slowly ascended in to a damp smelling room, with two skylights, one with a patched up window, the other with the moonlight filtering through on to the splintering wooden floor. Erik was there, of course, standing in front of a dirty straw mattress, sunken in and smelling of damp, a beige coloured rag curled up in a crumpled heap at the end. It had been forgotten, cast aside, it was clear that Madeline rarely came up here as there were few boxes of contents to be seen. I realised what this room was to Erik as soon as I saw that mattress and quickly took Erik's hand in to mine giving it a gentle squeeze. He sighed heavily through his nose, casting his gaze across to a box of toys, covered in dust and drilled to pieces by woodworm.

"The very few toys I had. Second hand, cheap wooden ornaments that barely kept me entertained." He whispered when he noticed my curious gaze, squeezing my hand a little too tightly in his, but I hid my grimace.

"This was your room?" I murmured in disbelief, taking in my bleak surroundings with disgust that the woman downstairs could subject her own son to a life of misery and damp like this.

"Hmm. That window was even boarded up. Wind, rain even snow would howl through it and I had that little threadbare blanket to keep me warm. Yet, I guess it did build up my intolerance to the cold, probably explains how I survived all of those years in the Gypsy camp." I shuddered at the image of a small, young Erik curled up in a ball, protecting himself against the bitter cold of the winters and the stormy rains of autumn. And then, to my horror, he completely changed the subject. "That was good acting, by the way, saying that you loved me. Very believable. Almost believed it myself." He chuckled then, casting me a sad smile making me cringe inside.

"Erik... I..." I swallowed thickly, my throat feeling like sandpaper. Should I tell him the truth? Tell him that I wasn't acting, that it came from the heart? I desperately wanted to but something held me back... I just wasn't sure what.

"I know, I'm teasing. I know you will never love me Christine."

"That's not true!" I blurted out foolishly. He gave me a curious glance.

"What do you mean by that?"

"That... That you treat yourself far too much like a monster. You are not unlovable." He snorted in amusement, reaching up to touch his mask as if to make sure it was still in place, his fingertips softly tracing over the black contours of his cheek bones.

"Ah, but I am. Come, the night is late. We should get back to the hotel. Let's say our goodbyes." He murmured, walking over to the hatch and placed his foot down on the top rung.

"Not forever I hope?" Erik stilled, before shrugging and descended the ladder.

"We'll see, Christine." Was he all he said before disappearing out of view. I smiled to myself, for it was a start. He was not saying no to the idea. I followed soon after, not wanting to remain in a shell of a broken childhood, climbed down the ladder, closed the hatch and blotted out the watery light of the full moon.

 **A/N- so sorry it's short, don't really like it anyway! as usual don't own any of the characters apart from Fred, all rights go to Gaston Leroux etc**


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N - ClaryF- haha patience! It may happen... eventually ;)**

 **Not A Ghost3- Thank you! Yes she is still being a coward but I think she will be able to say it to him.. soon...**

We arrived back in Paris four days before Christmas Day, where the air was bitterly cold and the Parisians bustled around in the streets wrapped up in as many layers as they could find. Erik didn't talk on the whole journey back, merely stared out the partially frosted window as our carriage bumped over the cobbled streets and pulled up to a stop a few streets away from the Opera House. We had left Boscherville after the meet and greet with his mother, in the early hours of the morning. I had suggested we stayed for Christmas, in private of course so that Madeline did not force him to stay against his will, but he simply wasn't ready for niceties over a time that had always been held in disdain by him. So, we said goodbye, promised to write and I decided that even if he didn't, I would for I could see that Madeline really was trying to make amends for her deplorable behaviour all of those years ago. I even proposed that they should come to the Opera House to see a show, earning me an unforgiving glare from Erik and a bright sunny grin from Madeline who whole heartedly agreed. I assumed this was the reason as to why he barely talked on the journey back, but I let him sulk like the impudent child that he was. Erik helped me out of the carriage, being careful that I didn't slip on the thin sheen of ice that had settled on the stone floor beneath us, paid the driver and took my small bag from me so that I could have both hands free incase I slipped. The ice didn't seem to bother him at all, even the in the dimming light that caused the Parisians to hurry back to their homes so that soon it was just Erik and I walking to the Opera House in the dark.

"I do hope you're not angry with me for suggesting to your mother that she should come to a show, Erik." I said, concentrating on my footing as we turned a corner in to an alleyway littered with debris and rubbish. Erik sniffed in disdain, picking his way around a bag of vegetable peelings that had been dumped and split by the vermin that scurried across the streets.

"Whilst I'd rather not have her come near my home, I suppose there is no stopping her. Just don't expect me to make an appearance." He said crossly, checking the roads before we crossed over to where the side gate to his lair sat obscure and locked up. Rolling my eyes, I let go of his arm so he could pull out a large brass key he kept in his breast coat pocket and unlocked the gate, before we both disappeared into the murky darkness.

It was the day before Christmas Eve and I hadn't seen Erik since we arrived back at the Opera House, though I had seen plenty of Raoul De Chagny as he constantly lurked around the theatre with the look of despair written across his face. Rumour had it that he was struggling with his father's estate, not being used to handling the accounts and meet and greets that his father had had to do. With Philippe being dead, all the responsibility was on Raoul's young shoulders. His sisters only contribution to their name was their strong marriage links that had been made in the previous months, and the youngest De Chagny ,Christopher, had gone off travelling the world, pretty much an outcast from his own family as he went against the wishes and traditions. I received many pained glances across the room from Raoul, heard many sighs when he sat in the front rows of the auditorium. No one really knew why he came every day as it was not expected of him but he made a show of being there for every rehearsal and even made naive, uneducated comments on how the performance was going. He received many frustrated comments from the directors and the cast, but today he crossed the line. I had just finished my aria when he commented on how my singing had deteriorated over the past week, making me flush with humiliation and Erik let loose a sand bag at the back of the stage causing a scene to drop down and almost crush half the cast.

 _"_ ** _YOU WILL NOT DARE EVEN COMMENT ON THE QUALITY OF MADEMOISELLE DAAE'S VOICE WHEN YOU KNOW NOTHING OF THE ARTS YOU IMPERTINENT, STUPID FOP!"_** He bellowed, causing half the cast to snigger and the other blanch with fear. I stifled a pleased grin at his interruption giving Raoul an unimpressed glare that he waved away as he scowled in to the rafters above the stage, a murderous look on his face.

"With all due respect, Monsieur De Chagny, our resident ghost is right. Mademoiselle Daae's voice has not deteriorated at all. Perhaps it would be best if you skipped this rehearsal and come back tomorrow, when you are in a better mind set." Monsieur Reyer commented, tapping his baton against the wooden stand before him.

"You dare speak to me in that way?" Raoul fumed, storming over to the conductor who look nonplussed at his furious reaction.

"When you upset my cast with comments such as yours, then yes, I do. Please leave this establishment." Raoul merely panted with anger, before he huffed and stormed off in such an angry state that it made me wonder how much stress he really was going through. He had never been like that before.

"Congratulations, Monsieur Reyer," I heard Erik purr from the rafters, causing the gossip that had been resonating around the cast to still like a frozen lake, "You're not at all spineless like I thought you to be." Reyer flushed with indignation before clearing his throat.

"Thank you... I think. Now everyone, whilst I have you're attention, let me remind you that we will be having a New Years celebration here at the Opera House. It will be a masquerade and it starts at 7pm, so be sure to come. I'm sure it will be a lot of fun." Excited voices filled the auditorium, about costumes and masks, dates and food that would be served, the drinking and dancing... But there was one thought ringing through my mind. If it was a masquerade then that meant I could bring a certain someone along as my date and no one would have any idea who he was. I decided that tonight would be the night that I asked Erik if he would assist me to the masquerade and perhaps, if I had the courage, reveal the feelings I had for him after I was unable to do so in his mothers attic. Maybe, just maybe... He would finally know how I felt about him.

 **A/N- sorry boring chapter but christmas and masquerade will be fun! all rights go to Gaston Leroux etc and I don't own any of the characters.**


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N- Kss: Thank you so much for your kind review, it really made my day when I read it and made me want to write the next chapter straight away! So here it is...**

It was Christmas Eve, and I stood in my dressing room before my mirror, making the final adjustments to my hair and outfit before Erik arrived to assist me down to his lair. I had suggested that we spent Christmas together after managing to catch his attention in the wings after Raoul's outburst, and he readily agreed, giving me a soft smile before disappearing into the shadows. I was just applying some rouge to my cheeks when a knock sounded at my door, which I opened with curiosity for I had thought that everyone had gone home. It seemed that Madame Giry was the last person to remain in the building.

"My child, may I come in? I'd like to give you you're Christmas present before I leave you for the night." I smiled warmly and let her in, joining her as she sat down primly on my chaise longue opposite the mirror. She brought out from her bag a small, beautifully wrapped present tied with a silky red bow as well as another, box shaped present wrapped in black and tied off with a silver and white bow. "Not the most conventional wrapping, I know," She smiled, pointing at the black box which I held delicately in my hands, "But then again, our friend is not the most conventional person there is, is he?"

"No, he most certainly is not. How did you know I was spending Christmas with him though?" She grinned, making her normally dark brown eyes spark with light creating creamy pools of milk chocolate surrounded by alabaster coloured skin.

"Well, if you're not spending it with Meg and I like you normally do, who else who you be with? I know you've been seeing Erik for a while now. I am not as stupid as you think I am young lady." She scolded playfully, laughing heartily when I blushed profusely from her words.

"Madame, I would never think you stupid, I just... Didn't want any one to you... Not that I don't trust you I just thought you'd disapprove."

"Christine... I don't disapprove." Madame sighed and looked away, playing with the creases in her skirt, "I am happy for you both, that you have found friendship in each other I just... worry about Erik. I have known him for a very long time, my dear, and I know what he can be like. He is a very troubled man, with many demons that he will need a lot of help with overcoming." I took her hand in mine and squeezed it gently.

"I know. He's told me of his past. I know he doesn't want me to pity him but that is something I can't help. So, I am trying to show him that there is more to life than darkness, I really am. I want to show him that he is not alone." Madame smiled at me so sweetly, brushing away a lock of my hair that kept falling forward.

"You are so like your father. Caring, loving... A wonderful person. I see more of him in you everyday. You have changed Erik, that is for certain. When I first met him, he was a very, _very_ bitter man. He was so... hateful and angry towards the world that showed him injustice. Then he met you. Something inside him clicked... He talked more to me. He wasn't so snappish or cruel, he wasn't so angry. He adored you. He still does, mind you." Again she smiled before pulling me into a chaste hug, "I know you will do him a whole lot of good Christine and that makes me very happy. He is like a brother to me. I want to see him happy." Tears formed at the corner of my eyes at her words and I nodded numbly, wiping them away shakily. She leant forward, kissed me on the forward and stood up, making her way to the door. "Happy Christmas Christine. I hope you have a lovely time." And with that, she left me sitting alone on the chaise longue awaiting for my companions arrival.

Erik arrived for me not long after, giving the basket which I grasped in my hand a curious glance before shrugging slightly, taking my hand gently in his own. We walked down in silence, him concentrating on the path we had to take though I was certain it was ingrained in the back of his mind whilst my head was filled up with many different thoughts that I was having trouble deciphering. I thought about what Madame said, how she wanted us to be happy together. Did that mean that Erik had feelings for me to, feelings that he had told Madame Giry about in secret, feelings that I also shared which she must have seen from the way I had been acting recently? With Erik, I was uncertain as to what he felt, the only expression that I was able to see came from his eyes and most of the time they were cold and distant, with the occasional glimmer of happiness that resurfaced now and again like a fleeting glance of shooting star. We arrived at the lake in no time, whereupon he helped me into the awaiting gondola with gentlemanly grace, my hands gripping the black lacquer sides of the boat as it rocked slightly underneath his weight before he pushed off from the shore. His face was covered in his normal black mask, the candlelight that he had placed around the cavern walls flickering off the surface of it. We reached the other side and docked up, him leaping gracefully from boat to jetty to tie it up before leaning over to help me out. As soon as me feet touched solid ground, his hands left mine and withdrew to his sides, curled up in to tight fists as he stalked over to the door leaving me in bewilderment at his strange behaviour. He stood before his door for a while, his key held outstretched before him but not yet in the lock, his lips pursed together in thought before he suddenly spun round to face me.

"Christine... I... Would you perhaps close your eyes? I'd like to... surprise you." I nodded dumbly, letting my eyes flutter shut, marvelling at the darkness that flooded my senses. I heard the key scrape the clock, heard the dull clunk of the door knob being twisted, the shuddering of the door and the rush of warmth that encased my whole body as he hand took mine once again and led me in to his humble abode. Eyes still closed, I heard the door shut behind me and felt him take my basket from my hand before leading me into what I presumed was the living room. A rustle of fabric met my ears, him removing his cloak perhaps, then hurried footsteps that got further away from me before he coughed nervously and told me that I could open my eyes now. I did so slowly, the sudden light making me cringe and blink as my eyes got readjusted to the warm light that flooded my room and I couldn't help but gasp in wonder at the transformation that had undergone in his house. In the corner nearest the old grandfather clock sat a luxurious Christmas tree bedazzled with the most delicate, beautiful glass ornaments I had ever seen. On the mantlepiece above the fireplace sat small ornaments, a dozens of burgundy coloured candles that swayed in the underground breezes. Around the room, paper snowflakes had been attached to string and laced around the ceiling, a blanket with the sweetest Christmas design threaded upon it awaited my use on my chair. A bough of holly studded with berries fit to burst hung on the parlour door, a red bow dangling from the bottom but the most wonderful reformation was Erik himself. Instead of his usual, sombre garb of black, he had changed in to a burgundy coloured waistcoat embossed with tiny golden patterns, a crisp white shirt poking out from underneath. Black slacks of course accompanied the outfit as well as the shoes that I believed he never removed but his hair was slightly tousled instead of being slicked back to his skull and standing there in front of the fireplace, he looked rather handsome.

"I... Er... What do you think?"

"Erik... It's beautiful." I breathed, taking in my surroundings once more, overjoyed at the effort he had put in for my benefit.

"I hoped it was too your liking... I wasn't sure if this was what it was meant to be like as I have never really celebrated before so... I hope this will suffice."

"Erik, really... You've outdone yourself. It's lovely... Thank you." I felt a rush of warmth run through me and even more adoration as I watched him stand there with a bashful look on his face and found myself running over to him and wrapping my arms around his slender figure. He tensed at the sudden contact, but relaxed soon after and wrapped his arms around me, whereupon I heard him sigh in content.

"I'm glad. Although, you'll have to tell me what one does on Christmas." I pulled back and gave him a warm but sad smile as I thought of all the years he had spent Christmas alone.

"Well... One eats heartily and drinks and sings songs and dances... one gives presents and plays games and sits by the fire to read... they share it with their loved ones..." I added as an afterthought and blushed at what I just said. Erik gave me a confused look.

"Loved ones...?"

"Yes... Family, friends... Partners. Christmas is a time for love and friendship after all."

"Then why are you spending it with me?" I scowled at him, rolling my eyes.

"Because you dolt you are my most wonderful friend and it means a lot that I get to share Christmas with you." He grinned at that and took me by the hand.

"Come, you must be hungry. Let's go eat and _celebrate_ the Eve of Christmas. Today should be even more fun than it will be this evening?"

"Oh yes, is that a promise?" I quipped cheekily, giggling when he let out a sigh of exasperation.

"Yes my dear. It is the one promise that I refuse to break, just for you." And with that, he led me to the kitchen where a feast meant for Kings awaited us on the table, and we ate knowing that tomorrow things would be a test for both of us yet.

A/N- Phew! Don't own any characters, all rights go to Gaston Leroux etc...


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N- Thanks everyone for your reviews! Let's celebrate Christmas with our two favourite people, and maybe a little guest appearance from Erik's thorn in the side!**

 **CHRISTMAS DAY PART 1**

My day started with a nightmare. It was dark and cold, the braziers either unlit or full of dying embers that did nothing to hold off the chill in the air that was slowly creeping in underneath the cracks. I got up, shivering, grasping for my dressing gown that I had draped over the end of my bed last night and found myself curling into it's warmth, wrapping the sash tight around my waist. I sat back down on the edge of my bed, restoring my warmth, wishing Erik was awake so he could light the brazier for me as I never managed to do it myself when I heard a muffled whimper resonate throughout the cavern. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, my breathing stilled as I sat there frozen, listening out intently for that haunting noise that I had just heard. Nothing. The air was still, calm... the only sound the faint howling of the wind that breathed through cracks in the wall and my breathing continued back to normal. Standing up, I went out into the hallway, not before picking up the candle holder that I kept near the door on my dressing table and made my way to the kitchen. The grandfather clock quietly ticked away, revealing to me that the time was half six in the morning and letting out a large yawn, I made myself a hot milk and helped my self to some biscuits that Erik had made a few days before. They tasted of honey and I felt rather guilty having such an indulgence this early in the morning but then reminded myself that it was Christmas day and one could treat oneself on such a marvellous occasion. That's when I heard it again, the strange whimpering and now soft crying that rung through the silence. Confused, I made my way into the hallway, convinced they were the cries of a child but that was impossible as no child would be able to navigate it's way through the complicated tunnels to where I stood now. The crying grew stronger, coming from my left down the hallway where my room and Erik's were situated, so I wondered down, stopping outside of Erik's door where I pressed my ear against the cold wooden barrier. There was nothing for a while and then, as clear as crystal, the crying happened again. It was Erik making the noise! He was having another nightmare...My hand felt itself grasping the cold brass doorknob, gave it a quick turn and opened the door, the light from the hallway flooding into the pitch black darkness that was Erik's room. I must admit it was queer standing in his personal space, for I had never really been in his room because I hated that ghastly coffin of his. My candle lit up the room just enough so that I could see outlines of objects dotted around the room, falling on the coffin where he lay with sweat dripping down his bare, unmasked face that was screwed up in abject terror. Another whimper escaped his throat, a grimace creasing his features. I leant closer, he was whispering something but I couldn't make out what he was saying... until I heard my name being said repeatedly, then Raoul's and then Gregor... Whatever it was, it wasn't good so I shook him awake as gently as I could. It took some time before he finally opened his eyes and shot up gasping for breath, hands running through his hair as he tried to calm his breathing.

"Erik... Are you ok? You were having another nightmare..." He nodded shakily and I helped him out of bed, leading him to the kitchen where I made him a cup of his favourite Russian tea. "What was it about this time?"

"Persia. Gregor. Always the same, hence why I barely sleep. I just wanted to make sure I was awake for a day that is so special to you." I touched his arm, giving him a warm smile knowing what would cheer him up.

"Hey... Why don't we go sing something? A christmas song perhaps?" He smiled, shrugging slightly.

"I don't mind what song. You choose."

"My favourite is Cantique de Noël... So could we please sing that?" He agreed, following me into the lounge, not quite caring that he was still in his pyjamas or realising that he didn't have his mask on but I supposed that was because the cobwebs of sleep still lingered around his mind. Taking his place at the piano, he played an extended introduction before nodding to me to start singing.

 _"Minuit, chrétiens, c'est l'heure solennelle_

 _Où l'Homme Dieu descendit jusqu'à nous..._

We sang for what seemed an age and I noticed how he really relaxed into his seat, giving me the occasional grin as his fingers danced across the piano keys with his feathery touches.

 _Noël, Noël, chantons le Rédempteur!_ I finished off, with Erik quietly fading the piano down into silence whereupon he sat back and gave me the warmest grin I had ever seen.

"Well my Dear, it is only seven in the morning and already Christmas has been wonderful. I wonder what is in store for me later." I squealed in excitement, clapping my hands in joy at his happiness before I raced forward and grabbed his hands in mine.

"So many things Erik, it shall be the most wonderful Christmas ever!"

The next few hours were spent eating, sitting by the fire and reading, playing card games and singing... laughing over stories we shared from the Opera House and gossiping about certain cast members when I remembered about his gift that I had stowed away in my room and had been desperate to give to him ever since I bought it. I bounded up and out of the room earning a confused glance from Erik as I left though I noticed he returned his attention to the book he held in his hand, shaking his head slightly at my sudden action. I came back only a few moments later, trying desperately to stop the grin that was spreading across my face as I held his present behind my back, rocking back and forth on my feet.

"What's that look for?" He finally asked, fixing me with an inquisitive look as he placed his book down on the table in front of him.

"Close your eyes." I ordered, which only made him roll his eyes.

"Christine, really-"

"Ah, just do it please Monsieur Phantom." He mumbled underneath his breath and obeyed my commands, his long fingers tapping against the arms of his chair in anticipation. "Now hold out your hands." He begrudgingly obliged and started slightly when I placed the package in his hands and took my seat opposite him, my arms resting on my knees and my face cradled in my hands, eyes wide with excitement. "Ok you can open your eyes now." Erik did so and looked puzzled at the present resting in his hands which I had wrapped up delicately in red paper with a star shaped label on it finished off with a white bow.

"What is it?" He murmured, turning it over in his hands as if it would tell him what he needed to know.

"What do you mean, 'what is it?' It's your Christmas Present silly! Happy Christmas!" He looked overwhelmed if I'm completely honest with you, as if he didn't know what to do with it before turned it over in his hands and carefully peeled away the paper stuck down with glue. He was met by a beautiful burgundy coloured leather book with 'Compositions' inscribed on the front in gold. It was accompanied by a new feather quill, black of course which had been delicately wrapped in tissue paper and a new bottle of red ink sealed with black wax. He held the possessions in his hands like they were china, gawping at them as if he had never seen such objects before.

"Christine... I.. Thank you so much. They're beautiful gifts, really they are..."

"You look so overwhelmed," I chuckled playfully, leaning forward in my seat, "Why is that?"

"Aha... Well... probably because this is the first gift I've ever received in my life." I stared at him dumbfounded, horrified at his statement.

"Oh... Erik..." I then remembered Madame Giry's gift that I had completely forgot about and went to retrieve that as well, taking me some time before I came back and found a large package at Erik's feet, a cheeky grin written across his face. I handed him the black box first, informing him it was from Madame Giry and Meg and he smiled at their thoughtfulness.

"Two gifts in one day? My... This is my lucky day." He opened it to reveal a pair of beautiful onyx cufflinks surrounded with silver that sparkled in the light and looked absolutely stunning against the white of his shirt.

"Oh they're beautiful." I swooned, handling them between my fingers as if they were made out of china.

"I do believe Ana has been wanting to gift me this gift for a while now. Thanks to you, I have finally received it." He took back the cufflinks, placing them back in the box before he handed me the huge package.

"For you, from me. I hope you like it." I smiled serenely, undoing the ribbon and un-peeling the paper to be met with most beautiful dress I had ever seen in my life. It was a dark midnight blue colour with a delicate lace front and neckline, a dark black velvet ribbon tied off at the waist and the same velvet was used as a trim on the sleeves. I caressed the beautiful fabric with my fingers, unable to say anything when I spotted a long, black box tucked away neatly next to the dress. Picking it up, I flipped open the lid and saw a lovely necklace awaited my appraisal, which was delicate and silver in colour with small diamond red roses dotted around on the chain. It was truly the most stunning necklace I had ever seen. I placed it down on the table and leapt up, throwing my arms around Erik who chuckled warmly, only tensing the slightest bit at the contact.

"Thank you so much Erik. I love them both so very much, they're stunning!"

"I'm glad you like them. Would you like me to help you put your necklace on?" I nodded eagerly, handing him the box where he took it out with such care and placed it around my throat, brushing my long locks away and I had to stifle a shudder at his touch. He clipped it on and let my hair fall back, before turning me around to face him and he smiled at the necklace that sat so beautifully on my chest.

"It is beautiful, but it is nothing compared to you." He murmured, looking at me with utter adoration that I could've melted on the spot. Blushing profusely, I stepped forward and took his hands in mine.

"You are far too kind to me, Erik." He shook his head, squeezing my hands gently.

"You are my angel. It's what you deserve." I smiled at him and found my eyes drifting down from his own eyes to his lips which were in a half smile. My head started leaning forward on it's own will, my lips inching closer to his and I think he noticed this too for he swallowed thickly as my hand let go of his and rested against his head which beat even faster under my touch. He was shaking at my approach and I had to admit I was full of nervousness as well, before ever so slowly we were inches away from our lips touching...

 **A/N AHAHAH have to wait until the next chapter I'm afraid because I am so lovely like that. Ermmm usual stuff all rights go to Gaston Leroux, I don't own any of the characters and the song 'Cantique de Noël' which I involved sections of belongs to Placide Cappeau and Adolphe Adam!**


	26. Chapter 26

**I am so sorry about the delay, I've just been so busy and also lacking motivation to write this chapter! Special shout out to my Guest reader- PerpetuallyTired who stayed up all night to get through my story, thank you a lot! And of course, thank you for your kind reviews, I appreciate each and every one of them!**

I was not expecting to hear the piercing sound of siren interrupt the tense silence of the room, nor the muttered curses of Erik as he stepped away from me with a crushingly devastated look upon his face. I had expected the crashing of our lips together, the sensation of being high above the ground, giddy with love. The spark that I had heard about for so long from the other ballet girls as they swooned in thought at their lover was something that I didn't receive as I clapped my hands over my ears, wincing at the cat like wail of the siren.

"What's going on?" I shouted over the deafening sound, staring in disbelief at how unaffected Erik seemed by the shrill noise that filled the cavern.

"Some idiot has set off one of the traps in the tunnels. Looks like I will have to go investigate and turn it off." He mumbled in a disgruntled tone, gliding over to where he kept his cloak and hat and pulled on a pair of leather gloves quickly and efficiently. When he saw me reach for my own cloak, he threw a puzzled look my way, halting in his own garbing of outer wear. "Christine, my dear, what are you doing?" I gave him an innocent look as buttoned the cloak at my neck, smoothing out the folds of velvet so that it looked like a sheet of threatening black sleeked its way to the floor, swathing my petite figure.

"I am coming with you of course." I pouted, making my way over to the door and waited patiently for him to come and join me.

"I think not. It is far too dangerous in those tunnels for you and-"

"Ah but I will have you as my guide, so I don't think it will be that dangerous, will it? Besides, there is no way I am remaining in this place alone with that horrendous noise drumming into my skull." Erik huffed, doing up the clasp of his cloak making him resemble the Angel of Death he lived up to and shook his head.

"Very well. But you must copy my every move, do you understand? I do not want you getting caught in a trap as well."

"Of course." I replied innocently, easily finding the hidden nook where the release button for the door sat and watched as it slowly clicked open. A rush of cold air bellowed into the cosy cavern making me shiver though Erik did not even flinch at the sudden dip in temperature though I supposed it was due to his ice like skin. He quietly stormed ahead, ignoring the gondola that occasionally bobbed gently up and down in the inky black lake and instead made his way to a ledge that crawled around the side of the cavern to a tunnel with a huge craggy gaping mouth. He looked at me expectantly and I followed his every move, grimacing to myself when I saw him expertly edge around the cavern and knew that I would not be as excellent as he, and indeed I almost fell in to the lake several times. Luckily, my good sense of balance saved me and storing in every gasp that I almost let loose as I teetered on the edge, i jumped the short distance down to the pebbled shore and breathed a sigh of relief, walking to Erik and grasping his arm gently. He gave me a rare, warm smile as he saw my barely concealed discomfort and let out a warm chuckle.

"Why Christine, you did marvellously. I was half expecting you to fall in to the lake." I smacked him playfully on the arm and let him lead me in to the mouth of the tunnel, relying solely on his cat like vision as the darkness swallowed my sight.

"You brute, you chose that path on purpose. Did you want me to fall in!?" I asked indignantly, knowing without a doubt that a playful smile would be written across his face.

"Of course not. Why on earth would I want that to happen? I just wanted to see how determined you were to follow me."

"I wasn't joking when I said I wanted to come with you. Besides, my head feels better already without that terrible pealing of the bell pounding on." Erik laughed gently and guided me left, the right, then left again. "How on earth do you know where you are going? I can hardly see a thing!" He stopped suddenly and felt him reach to the right of him, his gloved hand brushing roughly against the stony wall until the noise stopped. All of a sudden, a flare of light appeared and in his hand he held a torch which lit the way ahead and his concerned masked face.

"I'm sorry my dear, I wasn't thinking. I know how much you hate the darkness." I gave him a warm gentle smile and motioned for him to carry on and the concern was replaced with stony resolute as he marched onwards, the faint sound of a bell slowly sounding again. My ears pricked as I heard more than just the bell, for I certainly heard a very muffled, angry voice rounding off a series of insults and curses. Erik too cursed under his breath, letting out a plaintive groan as he reluctantly led me forward and round a corner where I saw a shadow dangling in the near distance.

"I know you like hanging about Daroga but this is getting ridiculous." Erik muttered cooly, leading me to a very cross and red face Nadir who was hanging upside down by the foot.

"Erik you insolent jackal! Do you know how long I've been hanging upside down for?! These traps are getting more and more ridiculous!" Nadir spluttered furiously.

"I believe these traps are to stop idiots like you coming to my lair. I'm glad to see that they work."

"Oh you... you-"

"Careful what you say, Daroga. I am not alone, as you can see." Nadir glanced my way and whilst his face did not drop its redness, his eyes softened and the anger diminished only slightly.

"Mademoiselle Daae, a pleasure to meet you again, as always."

"Thank you Monsieur, and the same to you to though I didn't think it would be under these circumstances." Nadir snorted as he hung uselessly by the ankle.

"Well if some one hadn't installed these new, infuriating traps, we wouldn't be in this situation, would we?"

"No, I could be in a much more pleasurable situation right now, let me assure you." Erik muttered sulkily, leaving my side to attend to his friend as I felt the flush stain my cheeks at his words. For a while, Erik didn't do anything but prod the Daroga, smiling at his annoyance before fiddling with some hidden mechanism in the wall. He let out a frustrated sigh, banged the wall, fiddled with the panel again before letting out a sigh of relief as the ringing of the bell stopped. Standing up, he brushed down his trousers and began to walk away, leaving both of us confused as to what he was doing.

"Erik, aren't you forgetting something?" Nadir exclaimed, slowly getting angrier. Erik looked behind him, cocking his head in confusion.

"Can't say I am, no. Come on Christine, let's get back to celebrating Christmas." I tutted at his childish behaviour, moving over to Nadir and studied the rope that claimed his ankle.

"Oh now really Erik, don't be such a fiend. We really must get him down before he passes out."

"I say we leave him hanging there, let him learn his lesson." He muttered coldly, standing on the blurry edge of darkness.

"And I say we get him down and take him back to the lair so that he may recover from this ordeal." I replied back a little too sharply, grimacing at the angrily burning eyes of Erik. He stalked forward and crouched down until his face was inches away from Nadir who balked at the simmering anger of his friend.

"You are extremely lucky Mademoiselle Daae his here," he hissed, clenching his hands into fists, "for I would have certainly left you here to dangle all day. You've learnt your lesson, Nadir. Next time you come poking your nose in and get trapped, I will not help you." Suddenly there was a flash of silver and a muffled thump as Nadir crashed to the floor in a yelp of surprise, his shoulder and head taking most of the impact.

"Oh my goodness, Nadir! Are you ok?" I exclaimed, hurrying over to the poor man who lay on the floor rubbing his head, groaning in pain. "Erik, how could you?" I uttered angrily, as I helped Nadir sit up, noticing that his head bled from a small gash he had obtained from the fall.

"Do what you will with him," Erik said, ignoring my question completely as he put the torch in sconce on the wall before gliding away, "I am not in the mood to deal with unwanted guests."

"I am going to take him home and attend to his wounds!" I shouted to his retreating figure as it sloped off into the darkness.

"Fine. But I will not help you. And just remember Christine, it is my home, not yours. I do not take kindly to irritating thorns in the sides and he is one of them." He replied angrily before his footsteps diminished into silence leaving me shocked on the floor.

"Come on Nadir, let's get you back to the lair. Do you know the way?"

"Yes, my dear, I do. I am sorry for putting you in this situation, I only came to wish you both a Merry Christmas but I have already messed that up. Please forgive me."

"Don't be silly Nadir. It's fine. Come now, let's go." I said, helping him up slowly before grabbing the torch Erik had left us and began the weary walk home.

 **I am so evil but come on, we all knew it was going to happen, right? So now we have Erik having a temper tantrum and poor Christine left to deal with a very cross, humiliated and sore Nadir. What could possibly go wrong? As usual, I don't own the characters etc, all rights go to Gaston Leroux etc... Please rate/review! :) thanks!**


	27. Chapter 27

**Thanks for the reviews guys! And Child of Music and Dreams... we shall see... ;)**

We slowly stumbled along the dank corridor, an occasional drip of water landing on my head as I thrusted the torch out in front of us whilst I supported Nadir along the way. He could walk ok, but took an occasional stumble, no doubt his head fuzzy and disorientated from the fall. Yet, I marvelled at how he was able to lead the way and avoid traps of old and was extremely cautious about new ones which no doubt littered the corridor. Despite this, we were able to make our way and saw the craggy mouth of the tunnel entrance approach us. It was here when Nadir picked up slightly and was able to walk by himself, not without groaning all the way as he rubbed his shoulder which was no doubt bruised and perhaps slightly bloody. I decided to talk to him about something that was mutual between he and Erik, and brought up Persia.

"Did you know that he told me about your adventures in Persia?" Nadir paled visibly and stared at me wide eyed.

"He told you about Persia?" He asked incredulous, eyebrows raised high, eyes full of shock.

"Yes, he me told all about the rosy hours of Mazenderan and everything that happened. And I'm sorry to, about Reza. No father should lose their child as cruelly as that." Nadir sobered at the name and looked away forlornly, eyes pricking with tears.

"Even after all of these years, I still get teary about my poor son. But thank you Christine, it means a lot. I miss him so much." He uttered shakily, taking a moment to pause in quiet reflection. I led him over to the pebbled shore and bade him to sit down, joining him shortly after.

"I'm sure you do, Nadir. Could you tell me about him?" Nadir smiled sadly as he glanced over the inky blackness of the lake before him, bringing his knees to his chest where he rested his chin on top.

"He was the most energetic boy I knew, before he got ill. So full of life, always smiling. Cheeky, that's for certain. He always enjoyed Erik's pranks and tricks. His mother died giving birth to him so I was all he had to rely on. I tried my best to attend to him but that can be hard when you are the Chief of Police and wanted by the Shah every second of the day. But when I would come home, he'd run to me and hug me tightly, always offer me a cookie of some sort or a drawing he had done. When Erik lived with us, he would show me some new contraption that Erik had helped him make. He's very good with children, you know. Very calm and patient, caring. In the end, he did my son a favour and ended the suffering he was in. I'll forever be grateful to him for that, you know. I could never do it. I suppose Erik understood the pain he was in and did not want him to be like that anymore."

"He sounds like he was a lovely boy. And what of your wife, what about her?" I enquired gently, fascinated by Nadir's life that I had barely ever caught glimpses of.

"Rookheeya? The most beautiful woman I had ever lain eyes upon. She had the widest, most beautiful jade coloured eyes that sparkled like diamonds and beautiful raven coloured hair that dangled below her waist. Slender, graceful, kind hearted, full of love. My soul mate. My other puzzle piece. I was distraught when I lost her. I couldn't even look at Reza for the first few days of his life, for shamefully I blamed him for my loss. But it was Rookheeya's sister who guided me away from the pain and showed me the light, reminded me that I still had a piece of Rookheeya before me and she was right. I never took my eye off Reza since. When he died, all I wanted to do was escape that hell hole and start again."

"So you helped my dear Erik escape and came to Paris. Just out of curiosity, have you found any one since Rookheeya?" Nadir gave me a gentle, warm glance and shook his head, eyes misty with lost love.

"I shall never marry again. Rookie was my one companion, my soul. I can never be complete again without her by my side. Very much how Erik would never be complete without you by his. He loves you dearly, you know." I sighed forlornly at the thought.

"I know. I see it in his actions and his eyes. Nadir... I have a confession. I love him to. I love him with all of my heart but I just find that I cannot tell him for I am not brave enough. I fear his reaction."

"I know, I see it in your eyes as well, " He replied, giving me a knowing grin, "But I understand your predicament. Erik is not the easiest person to tell things to, especially on matters of love. Convince the man of your love, prove it to him. Erik... Well let's just say I think he would never believe you if you did tell him. He's lived a hard life Christine and love has been void of his existence. Just try and show him what it is." I gave Nadir a thankful glance and gently patted his arm.

"Thank you Nadir. I enjoyed our chat."

"I enjoyed it as well, it's not often I get to talk about Rookie or Reza. It makes the past a bit more bearable to remember. Thank you for that, Christine." I bowed my head slightly in acknowledgement before helping him to his feet and we both looked over the vast inky lake before us and shuddered in distaste knowing that somehow we both had to cross without falling in.

"Don't thank me just yet. I have to help you across the lake and the only way I know getting across is that ledge over there." i grimaced, pointing at the mocking slab of stone that stuck out like a hug lip, only stone like in it's texture. I recalled it's slippery bottom making it precarious underfoot, and the few hand holds on the wall made me wish that there was another way across. Of course, the only thing I could think of was the gondola which of course was bobbing up and down on the other side of the lake, out of my reach. Nadir slowly made his way over to the ledge and hauled himself up without difficulty, his shoulder paining him to do so, before he leant over and helped me up the short distance.

"I'll go first, Christine. Let's both look out for each other, ok? I don't want you falling in though I'm sure Erik wouldn't mind if I did that, cursed Phantom." He grumbled, guiding me to my feet on the precarious ledge that I had only seemed to have been crossing moments before. Slowly, we made our way across, the only sound I'm sure was the beating of hearts seized with panic at the thought of falling in to the bottomless pit of water before us. Nadir shifted along, occasionally wobbling but managing to catch himself just before he looked as if he was going to topple in. I had the occasional wobble but I wasn't as bad as before and celebrated this success... all until a piece of the rocky ledge beneath me crumbled away and my foot shot down, making me lose my balance. Letting out a panicked squeal, I scrabbled for the wall, feeling my centre of gravity being pulled towards the lake and tried desperately to regain my balance, but to no avail. Nadir's hand shot out and grasped my flailing arm, only to realise that he had used his bad arm and whimpered in agony as he too lost his balance and we both plummeted down in to the water. The icy coldness rushed into me, freezing my nerves and limbs and I scrabbled up to the surface, breaking for dear breath and gasped loudly, noticing that Nadir had resurfaced and was slowly getting accustomed to the icy cold.

"Christine!" He yelled, making his way over to me and helped me keep afloat as the dress was slowly weighing me down, "Christine, are you ok?"

"F-fine, just f-f-freezing cold." I stuttered, floating around helplessly as Nadir started swimming with me back to the ledge, only I couldn't go anywhere. "Nadir!" I cried out in panic, kicking away at a vine or something that had entwined it's way around my ankle, "I'm stuck! Something has my ankle!" Nadir gave me a dumbstruck look, trying to yank me free from the determined grip but to no avail. He quickly stuck his hands under my arms to keep me above the water but the trap was slowly dragging me down and my dress weighed me down even more. "Nadir," I found myself crying pitifully, struggling to keep my head above the water as Nadir dived down to inspect whatever had wrapped it's way around my foot. He came up moments later, gasping for breath before shoving his hair out of his eyes.

"I can't see anything Christine, it's pitch black down there!" He cried urgently, trying to keep me afloat. "Erik!" He started screaming as my head kept sinking lower and lower beneath the water, Nadir's grip slackening on my arms, "ERIK!" Was the last thing I heard him yell before water swept over me and swallowed me whole.

 **DUN DUN DUN! as usual don't own any characters all rights go to Gaston Leroux etc... Nice to have a chapter concentrating on Nadir and Christine I thought, it can't all be about our main man (as much as I would like it to.) You can expect a few appearances from Raoul later on in the story to... Hopefully as I haven't planned this story at all (as you can probably tell) and just write out the chapters on a whim. Love to you all. Until next time...**


	28. Chapter 28

**Ok ok! I will update! Honestly you guys! Haha in all seriousness, thank you for your reviews, they really do mean a lot to me! I have never written a story this long and honestly I didn't think it was that good so I am thankful for your support!**

 _Christine's P.O.V-_

Acrid burning, choking my lungs, my throat, racing through me like some fiery serpent, filling every pore of my body with fire and water simultaneously. Above me, the surface of the water mocked me, it's devilish hue racing around me as I was pulled further and further down in to the inky abyss of the lake, the snare around my ankle cutting into my skin with every vicious tug it gave. I looked up again, saw Nadir splashing around in panic, watched him dive down and come to my level, his hands pulling frantically at the snare on my ankle, his eyes wide with utter, wretched despair. Funny, in what seemed to be my last moments, that I felt pity for the poor man as no doubt Erik would have his head for this utter debacle despite the fact it was not his fault. But I would not be there to stand up for him. Only when I felt the screaming in my lungs did I panic, like punctured wheels slowly hissing out air, my lungs gave up the ghost and my lips slid open to let out a stifled scream of terror. This would be my fate, my untimely death, drowning in the lake of a Phantom's residence in the fifth cellar of the Opéra Populaire. My eyes searched the surface hopelessly as the scrabbling hands of death made their way down my throat, watched as the colours faded around me until all I saw was a brilliant white, bright like the snow capped mountains of the Swedish ranges that surrounded the small village of my childhood. A figure appeared before me and made it's way over, fuzzy in appearance with arms open wide, spectral ambience seeping off it's every pore. When it got closer, I smiled at who it was, overjoyed to see that wonderful face again. I welcomed the figure with open arms, felt it's warmth envelop me like I was being swathed in a large blanket until my eyelids, heavy like steel shutters, slid down with a clashing force and then suddenly, everything went dark.

 _Erik's P.O.V-_

I had tried to be civil with the man, I really had but seeing as he had interrupted the one moment in my life where I could have shared something intimate with Christine, I could do little but resent his very existence. Seeing that bumbling fool dangling there like a useless puppet only sought to enrage me, with his outraged countenance at the trap that he knew had been there since the first day I had set the traps up. It was not a new trap, it was only Nadir being the stupid oaf that he was born to be. Having Christine pity that ass only made me increasingly frustrated with the whole affair, and so I left them be, stalking back to my lair in a cloud of black anger. Quickly, I made my way across the ledge, expertly and with no wobbles, though really years of being the Phantom and treading the catwalks above the stage had done wonders for my balance and agility. I found that I did not care how the other two made their way across when I slammed the door behind me, quickly shedding my outerwear and dumped it unceremoniously in a pile on the floor. With my teeth clenched together so hard that I believed they could shatter, I quickly found myself in front of my organ, pounding out harsh ugly tunes in frustrated anger until even the music I created was grating on me so I ceased the infernal noise, sitting with my disgustingly skeletal fingers poised above the keys. All that I heard was the reverberating echo of the music I had just created die off into the air... Or perhaps, was it something else? I cocked my head in confusion at the noise, it was muffled... like it was underwater when I realised, it was an alarm. One that I had not installed to go off in my house but in the cellar so that the dreadful noise of a trap so close would not split my skull in deafening agony. Good lord, he had set off another trap again. Christine, I knew was smart enough to not brush so close to death but Nadir with his idiocy did not surprise me. I felt a pang of remorse when I thought of Christine, of my harsh words that had slipped so carelessly off my tongue that I wished I could chop it out to spare her any more hurt. Of course this was her home, it was as much her home as it was mine. In fact, she was so imbedded into the very foundations of my home that it would never be the same without her. I sighed at that thought, of impending loneliness should she wish to disown me as a friend due to my disgraceful behaviour, then groaned at the dreadful, tinny dim that was still ringing away. Agitated, I pushed away from the organ and stood up, brushing down my suit to get rid of invisible specks of dust when I heard something that wasn't quite right at all. I heard panicked screams and splashing, heard my name being yelled with such agonising panic that I felt my heart clench in my chest and my tongue grow dry and heavy. I did not even feel my feet carry me to the door, nor did I remember opening it and running out onto the shore to see Nadir splashing around in panic, looking down through the inky black lake before he dived down. Horror filled my every sense when I realised Christine was not on the ledge, nor splashing around, but instead had been entrapped in my Siren's snare device. I did not even remove my shoes or jacket as I waded as fast as I could through the water, pushing out into a frenzied swim towards Nadir who had just resurfaced and looked as if he was going to attempt to save her again.

"Nadir! No! I'll do it! Go inside, get some blankets ready, some hot tea! We need anything to keep her warm! GO!" I bellowed, not even allowing the delight I saw at his immediate obedience to my commands to sweep over me. In fact, I appreciated his dutifulness as he quickly swam back to the shore and raced inside the moment his feet touched the pebbles beneath him. I could not waste another second as I dived down into the dark abyss, powering my way towards Christine who floated there like a lifeless doll and my gut clenched. This was all my fault, and only horror and disgust attacked my senses as I swam past her to where I knew the trigger for the snare was. As my lungs screamed for oxygen, I quickly scrabbled around for the release until my slowly stiffening fingers found it and worked their magic, the snare breaking loose and leaving Christine bobbing around. As fast as I could, I swam towards her, white spots dancing in my vision as my lungs slowly ran out of breath and caught her by the waist, dragging her up to the surface with heavy limbs that did not seem to want to negotiate with. Why I had ever set that trap in the first place I did not know and swore that this would never happen again when finally, we broke the surface and I greedily gulped in great breaths of air as I brought Christine to the shore and lay her down as gently as possible.

She was not breathing. She looked lifeless, pale, so much like a corpse that I found myself screaming at her figure, shaking her wildly that her head lolled back and forth. I felt hands capture my shoulders and wrench me away, making me want to punch the living daylights out of him when I watched him kneel before her and placed two fingers on her wrist. After ten seconds, his mouth twisted in to a grimace as he placed the heel of one hand on the centre of the chest, his other hand covering it tenderly before he started pounding it up and down, watching intently for any sign of life. I watched from the sidelines feeling very much like a scared, useless child who could do nothing but observe in wild panic. Nadir did this action thirty times before resting, watching her chest for any sign of movement. When nothing happened, he repeated the actions, stilling again, before he pinched her nose shut and dared to place his lips against hers. He must've know I'd react strongly to this as he held up his finger to me as if to warn me away from what he was doing, after gently tipping her head back and lifted the chin. He dispelled a few breaths until finally, much to my utter relief, Christine came to life, coughing out a great deal of water, her poor throat being wrecked by this hacking great raw choke of lake water that still bubbled in her lungs. But I could not contain myself any longer as I gathered her into my arms, rocking her back and forth as she still choked out the water inside her.

"Dear God I thought I had lost you." I whispered brokenly into her ear as she groaned despairingly, her hand grasping her throat as if fire still lingered there. She did not reply. Quickly, I brought her into the warm coven of my lair, a soggy Nadir following quickly behind and was grateful to see the fire roaring, a great deal of blankets on the sofa, a tray of tea and anything to help my dear Christine. Both of us ignored the fact we were freezing and soaking wet, instead we set to helping out the love of my life that I held in my arms, as if we had both mentally agreed that our state of health meant nothing compared to that of Christine's. I looked over to Nadir gratefully as we set to work and decided that I would never berate the man again, not after he had just saved my dear Christine's life.

 **RIGHT. THERE YOU HAVE IT. I HOPE YOU ARE ALL HAPPY. Of course she didn't die I'm not that cruel! I basically just spent at an hour and a bit spewing this out so I hope you appreciate it! ;) As always, I don't own any of the characters and all rights go to Gaston Leroux etc... Grateful for any reviews! :)**


	29. Chapter 29

**And so... we continue... Thanks for the reviews!**

My throat felt like it was on fire, my limbs were heavy like lead and my head... oh how it was pounding, hard and strong like the steady beat of a drum. My whole being prickled with intense cold and yet, I found myself raging with heat, no doubt due to the amount of blankets that had been swathed around my figure, the near intensity of the roaring fire not helping matters at all. I struggled against the heavy blankets, deliriously pushing them off my form and only managed to push the quilts a few inches down my chest, my muscles shaking and weak. I felt so useless lying there in the dimness of flickering candle light, when I started with sudden realisation that I was in my room. There was no ethereal singing, no white castles in the sky, there certainly were no angels flying about the place. Why on earth would my soul take me to my room in the cellar if I had died? Or maybe... Maybe I was in limbo? Waiting to be accepted into heaven... I wasn't in hell, that was for sure. There were no fiery pits, no demons... How strange. I was certain I had died, after all I had seen the white light and my father coming towards me with his arms open wide. He accepted me right into them, whispered into my ear "Welcome home, Christine." Oh, it was all so confusing and the thoughts just made my head ache even more. The pain that shot through me made me wince, made my hands twitch and when they did, my left hand came in contact with something that wasn't a quilt. Hair... I felt hair underneath my fingertips and tentatively, I stretched them out even more to feel the slightly damp texture brush against my pads. My head lolled over lazily to the side, whereupon I tried to concentrate on what I was feeling beneath me. That's when I realised that Erik was here, with me in limbo and I almost cried at the thought. Had he died trying to rescue me as well? He sat on an armchair that had been pulled up to my bed, his head and left arm resting on the bed, his mask pushed up slightly from the way he slept quietly next to me. His fingers stretched out before him and felt my fingers crawl their way over to his hand and took it gently in my grasp. The movement and pressure that I gave made him responded in a sleepy stupor as he groaned, tightening his hand in mine as his head slowly lifted up from the bed, eyes blinking blearily has he stared at me in a dazed countenance. The confusion quickly switched to joy as a delighted smile spread across his face making my heart swell with adoration at such a face.

"Christine." He whispered rawly, scooting his chair even closer to the bed, "Oh thank God..."

"Erik... Are we... Did we... Did we die? We are in limbo, are we not?" I mumbled in sincerity, surprised when he shook his head.

"No, my dear. We did not die."

"Then why does it feel like my body does not belong to me?" I groaned, struggling to move my cumbersome limbs, wheezing at the slightest effort to move my body.

"You almost... _drowned,"_ he murmured, voice cracking as he did so. Taking a deep breath, he presumed his sincerity that I knew to be a Phantasmal quality, "You swallowed in a lot of water and starved your brain of oxygen... Your blood is just probably taking it's time to pump around your body." My brain felt fuzzy as I tried to remember what really happened.

"What... Happened?" Erik looked away in pain, self loathing evident in his stormy eyes.

"Nadir told me you fell in. My Siren's snare trap latched on to your ankle and dragged you under. I just managed to save you in time...Christine... I am so... so _sorry."_ He moaned mournfully, barely able to look me in the eyes because of the guilt that was no doubt attacking him right now. I squeezed his hand gently.

"It's my fault I fell in. You saved my life, please don't blame yourself. I know you are."

"But don't you see!?" He exploded passionately, leaping up from his chair, tears forming in his eyes, "I created that God damn trap in the first place, it's my creation that made you suffer! You almost died! How can I not blame myself!? I almost lost you! You, the one person in this whole entire world who actually means so... _so much_ to me and because of my stupid creation I almost killed you! Christine, I don't want any more blood on my hands and I almost ended up with yours, how can you not blame me for my... my... monstrosity and selfish need to be left alone?"

"Erik-" I started but never had the chance to finish as he knelt down suddenly next to the bed and grasped my hand in his.

"I beg for your forgiveness. I promise you, it will _never_ happen again. Christine, I... I- I care too much about you. You are my world, my universe. Without you, I cease to exist. I almost lost you and you have no idea how wretched that makes me feel. God damn it Christine... I- I love you! There, I said it, cringe with disgust all you will but dear God I love you so much, this creepy, deformed, mad man will love you until I die and I will probably still love you when I am in my grave because you are my soul and I feel so disgusted with myself that I let this happen. That is why I have decided that you will no longer come down to my abode. It is too dangerous for you and I cannot rest knowing that you could potentially be moments away from death because of this hell hole" I sat shocked at his passionate explosion, then his forward decision that I was no longer allowed down where I felt the most comfortable I ever had. Words could not form on my tongue as I sat dumbfounded, fairly certain my eyes were bulging out of my head before I managed to muster up some words.

"Erik... I... I do not know what to say... I- Never come back down here? You must be joking."

"Christine-"

"No. No! It is my turn to speak. I am in control of my own actions and my own destiny Sir and I will not let you dictate to me on what I can and cannot do. If I so wish to spend my time with a man who is a prominent figure in my life then I shall. Know this when I tell you that you cannot stop me from coming down here if and when I please." I managed to croak angrily, blushing with frustration.

"Christine, you do not know what you say."

"Erik, you cannot simply stop me coming down here because it is 'too dangerous.' Perhaps, in the tunnels maybe, but in your abode I feel so very secure and safe and I will not let you take that away from me." He did not answer, merely knelt with a gloomy expression on his face as he listened to my heated words. "And as to your other confession... Well..." At this, he seemed to stop breathing, having perhaps forgotten what he had said until his face grew cold with unnecessary, menacing anger.

"Well what?" He spat, refusing to look me in the eye, "That you're disappointed that a creature like me is in love with you? That this hideous, deformed corpse loves you more than any treasured possession in the whole wide world? I am so very sorry for your poor misfortune, Christine." He practically growled, radiating off angry heat like a tempered bull.

"You did not let me finish my sentence," I snapped, eyeing him with disdain as he talked so lowly of himself, "Erik, look at me. Now." He did so reluctantly, watching me with cold disdain. That angered me even more, "Now you listen to me you bull headed, stubborn, impossible man. You are not some creature. You are not hideous, nor are you a corpse. Corpses are dreadful, lifeless things and you are certainly not any of those things." He snorted at that, looking away again so that I had to use all of my effort to lean forward and grasp him by the chin, forcing him to look at me. He was surprised at the contact, I knew this as he visibly gulped in anxiety at my proximity to him. "Furthermore, I have no poor misfortune, certainly not with you in my life. It may surprise you Erik that you to mean everything to me and more, that you as well are my world. And seeing as this is the time for confessions, God knows why as I feel like a furnace at this very moment, I couldn't imagine a life without you by my side. Goodness gracious Erik, it hurts me to know that you cannot recognise it but how can you not see the love that I hold for you? You are so very dear to me, Erik Destler and I love you so much. So very much." A sudden wave of nausea hit me but I thought back the creeping sensation of dizziness as I looked into the wide, awestruck eyes of Erik who looked as if he was about to cry. He slowly shook his head in disbelief.

"No... You are delirious... You're sick, you cannot possibly mean that..."

"Oh for goodness sake Erik, yes I do! Please take heed of my words and listen, _please_ , I implore you! I love you! I love you to the moon and back and a hundred times over! I love you..." I managed to croak before the nausea fully sent in and I flared up even more with heat. My chest felt so constricted, so tight as I struggled for breath, falling back into my pillows earning a cry of despair from Erik as he flew to my side, tentatively touching my head, lurching back upon contact as if he had been stung.

"You're burning up!" He cried, hurrying over to a bucket of cold water and flannel that had been bestowed my basin before he rushed back to my side, dabbing at my forehead gently. My throat started to tickle and before I knew it, I was heaving out great hacking coughs, my lungs wheezing in agony as I collapsed further in to my pillows. The last thing I saw before my eyes slid shut was the hugely concerned face of Erik mouthing my name over and over again before darkness met me again.

 **OMG FINALLY! But will Erik truly believe her confession or think it's the fever talking? Things aren't looking good for Christine, poor Erik :( As usual, all rights go to Gaston Leroux etc and I don't own any of the characters... unfortunately. ;) Please leave any comments you think would be helpful to this whirlwind of a story because honestly I have no idea how this is going to end up...**


	30. Chapter 30

**Again, sorry for the delay. Today I am trying something different. We will be looking at the story in third person, seeing as a certain character has been neglected. You didn't think it would be all about Erik and Christine now, did you? ;) Thanks for the reviews as well!**

In a large three storied town house with stone of cream and beige, and balconies jutting out like swollen lips, guarded by intricate black railings sat three men and a woman. One of those men was the newly appointed Comte De Chagny, merely a boy of 26 with a frustrated scowl twisting his handsome features. The other was the First Master of Raoul's fleet, off duty and enjoying the luxuries that Paris had to give, especially the seedy brothels that he stumbled across drunkenly in the night. Benoit Lesauvage could be unruly at times, and certainly was incredibly fierce, an unlikely friend for the Comte De Chagny but how he leeched off Raoul's position in society and wealth. Having been born in to a poor family, Benoit had many tricks of the trade, some of them dark and he was not afraid to use them to his advantage. With his shock of coffee coloured hair, dark, brooding eyes, and handsome features he was a catch to many ladies and he knew it. He was used to having his way and would break the rules if he didn't get what he wanted. Thirdly was the Commissaire de police, a portly man with a bristly ginger moustache and shrewd, piggy like eyes that watched the two men in cold calculation. Next to him, a young pretty little slip of a thing with dull blonde hair coiled tightly in a bun, almost painfully scraped back with eyes that were alert yet wary of the wolfish man that stared at her like she were her pray. Benoit noticed her discomfort and smiled even more.

"Inspector, this is a most unusual hour to be visiting. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Gabriel Labelle, Commissaire de police, cleared his throat loudly and shifted in his seat, his large rump fitting snugly in the curved planes of the chair.

"Monsieur, I do apologise for disturbing you at this late hour but I could not wait until morning. We have made some advances Sir, in the enquiry of your brothers death. Madame Renaud here has some information that I think you'd find most interesting." At the mention of her name, she sat up straighter in her seat and fixed Raoul with a determined look.

"Let's hear it then."

"Monsieur, my name is Claire Renaud, I am here on behalf of my friend to recite her story." Raoul scoffed indignantly.

"She could not make the journey herself?" Benoit humphed in the corner, gazing at the floor in boredom. He wanted to be out in the centre of Paris having fun and not here listening to this shrewd like lady with wild eyes.

"No Monsieur. She is of timid nature and was unwilling to bring back memories that have haunted her for the past few weeks."

"A petty excuse. We all are haunted by demons of the past," Raoul snapped, suddenly very tired and bored of the whole situation, "Furthermore, how are these memories connected to my brothers death?" Claire looked at him uncertainly, swallowing thickly.

"I... It was the actions of your brother, Monsieur, that insinuated the murder and have plagued my dear friend with nightmares. She cannot leave the house because of what happened that night."

"And pray, what actions did my brother take that caused his death?" Raoul murmured warily. He had heard many stories from a string of women who were only after the reward money and he grew tired of the false natures.

"He... He assaulted her. At least he tried to. He tried to defile my friend with his lecherous, wandering hands-" Raoul broke off her angry torrent quickly and furiously.

"Enough!" He bellowed, launching out of his seat and over to Madame Renaud who sank back into her chair in fear. "How dare you try and blacken my brothers name with your poisonous words!"

"Monsieur, it is the truth-" She tried to plead but again Raoul cut her off.

"I have had many a harlot come into this room who have tried to defile my brothers pure nature for the prospect of riches. You are just like them." Instead of cowering in to her seat, Madame Renaud coloured with indignation before shooting out of her seat and glared at the Comte De Chagny with simmering hatred.

"I am no harlot, Monsieur! How dare you insinuate such an accusation? And yes, I am here for the prospect of riches only because I cannot live day to day on the meagre income that I earn. It is easy for you, born with a silver spoon in your mouth, to live in luxury. I struggle to feed my five children and care for my friend who has grown deliriously ill due to lack of sleep and food because of what your brother tried to do! She is such an innocent, caring soul that I fear your brother has damaged her for good. I came here to help you but clearly you do not need it. Good day to you, Sir. I hope you rot in hell like your leach of a brother." She spat angrily, turning quickly on the spot and marched towards the door.

"Madame! I demand you to stay!" Raoul shouted after her, panicked and bitterly angry with himself, but she did not listen. "Madame, I will give you that cursed reward money if you tell me what you know!" Her hand stilled on the door handle.

"All 150 francs?"

"Yes, of course!" He uttered impatiently, running a frustrated hand through his honey coloured hair. She did not turn to face him, but stared at the dark mahogany door in front of her.

"Give me the money first, then I will tell you all you need to know." Raoul sighed angrily, not in the mood to argue with this wretch and unlocked the safe hidden away in a cabinet in the room. As soon as he deposited the bag of money by her feet, she began to talk but did not look him once in the eye.

"My friend was on the way back from church and was near the Opera House when she was accosted by your brother in the street. He cornered her and started to do unimaginable things to her and she grew very frightened indeed. All until a figure swathed in black approached and saved her life. She told me he was very tall and thin, yet had indescribable strength and wore all black. He had a voice like an angel, or so she said, and wild golden eyes. He told her not to be frightened, that she wouldn't be hurt any more." She paused for a while, before continuing on sadly, "She begged me not to come tonight. He saved her life and for that I am grateful, even if it did result in a murder. I hate that money has made me confess what I know." She looked over her shoulder and gave Raoul a cold glare before glancing at the Inspector who still shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "I am ready to go now Inspector."

"Yes, yes very well." He mumbled, nodding his head in respect to the two men before him, one nonchalant and the other thoroughly displeased. "Good night to you, Sirs. I shall drop round in the morning for a course of action, if you are willing to take one."

"That was hardly anything. A waste of my time and money." Raoul mumbled displeased, collapsing back down in to his seat. "Do what you will, Inspector. It is not much to go on." Labelle again nodded in acknowledgement and joined Madame Renaud at the door who clutched the bag of money tightly to her chest.

"Oh Monsieur? One more thing. I just remembered... My friend... She said that he wore a black mask, it covered his whole face. And... well I don't know if this will be much help at all but he ran at her and kept calling her Christine. Perhaps this information will help, though I doubt it. There are many masked criminals in Paris. Good day to you, Sirs." And with that, she left Raoul sitting in his seat, stunned by this revelation. Benoit watched his friend carefully, not stupid enough to notice the sudden change in his friends demeanour.

"It seems that the information was helpful after all. What troubles you so?" Raoul stared at Benoit in disbelief, throat dry and tongue heavy.

"He kept calling her Christine! What if she was referring to Christine Daae? A childhood sweetheart of mine?" Benoit scoffed.

"So what if she was? How is that helpful? That little pet of yours could have a string of men after her heart."

"She's not like that," Raoul snapped, rubbing his tired eyes in irritation, "And I doubt she'd be interested in any masked criminals-" He stopped suddenly, a thought hitting him like a ton of bricks so much so that he rocked back in his seat. "Dear God, could it be...?"

"What?" When Raoul did not answer, Benoit hit him on the arm an asked again in a more exasperated tone.

"I... I think I know who murdered my brother..."

"Who?"

"There is only one masked man who lurks around the Opera House that I know of, one who I think has strong connections with Christine." Benoit let out a loud, short laugh and clapped his hands in amusement.

"Oh that is very rich, Raoul. You're telling me that you think your brother was murdered by a Ghost?" Raoul looked at Benoit deadpan which only made Benoit howl with laughter.

"I'm serious Ben! The Phantom has always been protective over Christine and treats her like his star pupil, always praising her voice... The masked freak is probably the same who murdered my brother!" He cried, leaping up from his seat once more.

"My friend, you need to get out of the house. The Phantom is a figment of the imagination. _He is not real."_ Benoit emphasised, joining Raoul where he stood, "Come, let us go enjoy the sights of Paris and take your mind of this case for a few hours. It is doing you no good." Too tired to care or argue, Raoul agreed and let Benoit drag him into the streets to enjoy the sights which just so happened to be in the Moulin Rouge, much to his dismay. As he sat there with a cocktail in hand watching the scantily dressed dancers flash the frilly undergarments, he thought of Madame Renaud's words and the Phantom that lurked around the Opera. He could not ignore the niggling feeling in his mind and was determined to suss out this murder once and for all, and decided that his next line of enquiry would be the very girl that he would never imagine to play a role in this. It was time to question Christine Daae.

 **Don't own any characters (except Benoit, Labelle and Renaud) and all rights go to Gaston Leroux etc**


	31. Chapter 31

**For goodness sake Child of Music and Dreams, your puppy dog eyes worked a treat on me! Very well! I suppose I can release the next chapter and of course it is back to the point of view of our dear, if slightly crazy, Erik.**

I spent the next four days in hell. I had convinced myself that Christine was going to die and I had a meltdown, locking myself away in my music room and let Nadir care for her. He beat on my door everyday calling me a coward and other unsightly names but it did not affect me. I had killed Christine. I started seeing her spirit walk around my music room, those large haunted eyes of her staring at me accusingly, her slender fingers pointing at me, whispering mean words.

 _You did this to me, Erik. You killed me._

No. NO! Stop it... Please stop it. Please, Christine. I am sorry.

I didn't even know what day it was. Time no longer mattered. I did not eat, wash, sleep, speak, sing or move for four days straight. Instead, I remained in a dingy corner of the room, head pressed against the wall, knees drawn tightly to my chest where I rocked back and forth, whispering to myself incoherent mutterings. It was on the fifth day that Nadir finally managed to break the door down, for he came flying in to my room from the gathered momentum and tumbled down into a heap. I did not even register the sound of the wood splintering. I only reacted when Nadir's hand came in contact with my shoulder. Flinching, I shot up onto my feet and threw Nadir into the corner, and not knowing who he was in my delusional state, started to squeeze his windpipe, watching with satisfaction as he struggled for breath. The demon started to speak, and the voice registered with me. How did I know this voice? I focused in on his face, struggling against the ties of insanity that had threaded their way through my brain when I realised that it was Nadir turning a shade of purple under my vice like grip and quickly, as if he were a burning coal, released my grip.

"Are you mad?" He gasped, rubbing his now tender throat and I cocked my head in thought.

"Yes." I replied sagely, crossing over to the other corner of the room.

"Erik..." He spluttered, "Erik stop! You haven't killed Christine! She's alive!" The words stopped me immediately in my tracks.

"What?" Struggling to his feet, Nadir coughed heftily before speaking again.

"She is alive and well you stupid man. Her fever is going. She wants to see you." I stared at him as if he had two heads. Christine was alive? I didn't believe it. I guess Nadir saw my disbelief as well for he stalked over and gripped my arm tightly before he dragged me to Christine's room, where I protested the whole way.

"What are you doing?! I don't want to see her corpse!" I cried, struggling against his strength that I never knew he had in him. With stony resolute, Nadir ploughed on to her room and opened the door, the harsh light hurting my eyes so much so that I let out a cry and whimpered. "The lights, God damn it, the lights!" I heard myself choke but my friend it seemed could not care less as he practically threw me into the room and shut the door behind me. Slowly, painfully, I cracked open my eyes, the dizzying light flooding my senses so that I had to squint to look at my surroundings. It was strange, being in a room of light and hope after my trip into hell and whilst I could not see, I could hear.

"Erik!" I heard her cry and it took all of my resolve not to fall to my knees and weep at her voice.

"Christine" I pathetically mewed, stumbling over to her side and collapsed on to the floor by her bedside. My eyes were getting used to the stark changes and slowly focused on her deeply concerned face.

"Erik, you look awful! What have you done?!" I looked at my crumbled suit, grimacing at the slightly sour smell that hummed off my body and shuffled away from her slightly.

"Forgive me... I... I have not been myself lately."

"I didn't think it were possible but you look thinner!" She said, astounded, her face a little red but eyes wide and alert, free of illness. She really wasn't dead. Life had been restored into her. I flopped into a heap on to the floor and wept, from relief, from exhaustion, from sheer joy that my one companion had not been taken from me. Insanity fled like a scared child and my cool, calculative mind returned to it's throne and flooded me with humiliation. I had been such a coward, to leave Christine to fight a battle on her own because of my own selfish needs, to let myself revert to the whimpering child that I used to be. My cheeks flamed with embarrassment as the tears continued to pour down my sallow cheeks, their salty warmness tracing my ghostly lips so I hid my head in my hands and wept for what seemed to be an eternity. I had all but forgotten our earlier conversation before her illness until her hand rested gently on my shoulder and ran its way up and down my slender arm.

"There, there Erik. Everything is ok. I am fine." Disgusted with my pathetic demeanour, I sat up quickly making Christine lose her balance and tumble to the floor. Her elbow thudded harshly on the ground and I watched as she tried to suppress a grimace from the pain she doubt felt.

"Oh, all I do is cause you pain!" I wailed, burying my head in my hands once again. I heard her tut loudly and shift about, then unexpectedly, her arms wove their way around my torso and she snuggled her head into my chest. I froze like a statue at the contact.

"Don't be stupid." She mumbled, and I gathered up the courage to embrace her, relishing the feel of her body against mine.

"I've been a selfish coward. I should have been here, looking after you, but I couldn't. I... I just couldn't handle seeing you so ill. Thank god Nadir was here. He saved your life. I've done nothing but cause you misery."

"You saved me from drowning, Erik. You sat in your wet clothes for God knows how long until I resurfaced into consciousness and you were so... sweet to me. I.. I have not forgotten your confession, by the way." I couldn't help but let out a dismal groan as the words came rushing back to me.

"Ah yes. The sickly sweet words of a lunatic." She pulled away and gave me a hurt look.

"You did not mean it then?" I shook my head fervently.

"No, no of course I meant it! I only meant that I was a lunatic to even try sharing my feelings with you when I know nothing will ever happen between us." She frowned at me, her hand caressing the side of my face.

"You did not take heed of my words then?"

"I.. I did, but you were ill... Feverish. You couldn't have possibly meant it." She groaned fervently, withdrawing her hands so she could tangle them into her hair in frustration.

"Oh Erik you are impossible." Then, it seemed as if her previous condition had suddenly registered with her as she looked at me wild eyed, "Dear God, how long was I ill for?"

"Not long," I shrugged, "A few days."

"It is not the 31st then?" I scrunched up my nose in confusion at her question.

"I... Uh no, my dear. That would be tomorrow." Gleefully, she looked at me, a large smile spreading across her face.

"Then I have not missed the masquerade ball?" I gave her a doubtful look.

"If you are seriously thinking of attending that ball then you are very wrong indeed. Not after your previous predicament." Christine rolled her eyes at me, coughed, before placing her hands on her hips.

"I am fine, Erik. It was a silly fever-"

"You almost died!" I spluttered indignantly, horrified at her need to go socialise, drink, dance and be merry,

"But I didn't and I feel fine. Please Erik, I have been looking forward to this for so long. Besides, I was hoping you'd go with me." My eyes widened to the size of the moon.

"Excuse me?"

"Would you like to accompany me to the ball?"

"You want me, the Phantom of the Opera, to take you to a ball filled with people that I haunt on a daily basis?" I asked, incredulous.

"Yes."

"My God, the fever has made you mad." She swatted me on the arm playfully, before coughing and groaning again.

"Please, Erik. No one will know who you are. I can just tell them you're my music teacher or something." Seeing that I wasn't going to be able to deter her, I groaned in defeat and agreed.

"Fine, but one sign of illness and I am taking you home. And don't expect me to be sociable either. It's not as if I like any of those simple minded fools up there." She smiled serenely at me and took my hand in hers.

"I can't wait. What will you wear?" At this I grinned wolfishly.

"Oh you'll see. I have something in mind that will make everyone cower in fear at the sight of the mighty Opera Ghost."

 **Yeh that'll do I guess, not my favourite chapter BUT oh my goodness the next one will be so good and LONG. Confrontations, arguments, disasters... It's going to be a good one... All rights go to Gaston Leroux etc and don't own any of the characters.**


	32. Chapter 32

**No joke I was happily writing away and then BOOM accidentally click something and lose about two hours worth of writing you guys have no idea how angry I am right now. SO. Dedication to my readers. I am re-writing THE WHOLE CHAPTER again just for you. Even if I am about to throw my laptop at a wall. Thanks for the reviews and being patient even if I had some pretty great material going on here. UGH.**

I had turned down the lights slightly in my room just so that I could ignore the fact that my skin was almost the same colour as Erik's and the poorly concealed bags under my eyes shone like black coal. Awful was the only word I could think of to describe my self and I regretted the choice of dress that I had on as I looked completely washed out. My hair, limp and lack lustre hung like a heavy sheet of satin against my back and took all of my effort to get it scraped back into a half up and down do, which did nothing to help my somewhat sallow form. Sighing, I rested my forehead against the mirror, my breath misting up the glass in front of me and peered down at the dress that I wore, inspecting it in closer form. In the shop it had looked pretty, especially on the mannequin that displayed it in the shop window but on me it looked like a white sack dragged through ink. The bodice was white in colour and had a daring square shaped neckline dotted with intricate black threading and rhinestones that glittered like wet pebbles sitting in the sun. Long, satin sleeves hugged my arms, layered with beautiful lace that wound its way up to my shoulders and across the whole of the bodice, plummeting down in to a severe, black skirt that had been studded with tiny diamonds which caught the light when I moved. A trail of black feathers made their way down the back of my skirt and my eyes were covered by a small mask, black with white lace covering it, a few erect feathers sticking out of the sides making me look like some regal bird. Oh but how lost I looked in it, how insignificant and wan I appeared. A knock sounded at my door breaking me out of my reverie and gathering my strength, I traipsed over to open it where I was met by a very excitable Meg. How stunning she looked. Golden blonde hair pulled back into an intricate bun, her bright eyes shining out from underneath a red eye mask trimmed with gold thread and a dress so incredibly seductive that I was surprised that her mother let her step foot out of the house. It hugged her curves, enhanced her breasts and was such a wanton coloured red that I couldn't help but smirk at the idea of my little Meg finally blossoming into the entrancing woman she was born to be.

"Goodness me, is the Prince of England in attendance tonight? I have never seen you look so seductive in all of my life." I teased, allowing her in and laughing when her cheeks flushed to match the same colour as her dress. She was about to reply when I guess she saw how awful I must've looked for instead she let out a small gasp.

"Christine, are you well? You look dreadfully tired." I shrugged and led her over to the chaise longue which I wished I could stretch out and sleep upon.

"I admit I am not feeling quite up to standard. I have had a very eventful Christmas."

"How so? Was your time with... well, you know who, not quite what you had hoped for?" I sighed at her wariness against my friend and took her hands into mine.

"He is not some spectre that will haunt you for the rest of your life if you dare say the words 'Opera Ghost'. Besides, he does have a name and it is Erik... And it was lovely, just a bit disastrous towards the end."

"What happened?" She asked, concern plastered across her face.

"It is a long story..."

"I am listening." So I told her. I told her about Erik's timidness towards the whole idea of Christmas and the beautiful decorations he had done. I told her of the delicious meal and the wonderful presents we had exchanged, reciting with sadness about how it was the first gift he had ever received. My hand ghosted over my necklace as I told her of Nadir's blunder in the tunnels and how enraged it had left Erik, leaving me to guide Nadir back to the lair. Then I recited my fall into the lake and recalled with such nonchalance about my near death experience that Meg let out a horrified squeak.

"How can you sound so laid back about this?! You almost died Christine! You should really be resting..."

"I have been resting for a few days now. I have had enough of being sick and bed ridden. At least my fever has gone."

"You caught a fever?! For goodness sake Christine, you ought to be more careful instead of traipsing around in the dark! And I am furious with Erik and Nadir that they put you in this situation! Erik really ought to have been assisting you through those dark tunnels instead of letting you fend for yourself." Meg scolded, disappointment evident in her eyes

"Oh yes I know, please stop fussing... You're supposed to be my sister not my mother! And I know but don't forget that he did save me from drowning and Nadir nursed me through my sickness."

"Why didn't Erik aid you? It's his fault he installed that dreadful trap in the first place."

"Yes I know," I sighed, frustrated, "And he was deeply sorry for that. But he couldn't help me in my sickness because he had a severe mental breakdown. He thought he had killed me, Meg, and couldn't forgive himself. Nadir told me he locked himself away for days on end refusing to eat, drink or do anything! Erik is different... He can't handle emotions very well. He can't outrightly accept others either."

"What do you mean?" I bit my lip, contemplating whether or not to tell her.

"The other night, Erik told me that he loved me. And... well... I told him that I felt the same way only he didn't believe me."

"Why not?" She asked, softly.

"Erik has had a very difficult upbringing where he wasn't shown an ounce of love, not even by his mother. He has grown so used to the feeling that he doesn't know love when it is staring him in the face. It is horrible really that he won't accept my words because he believes himself to be a monster. Oh Meg... I don't know how else to tell him!"

"You'll find a way, you always do. Anyway, I'd love to chat more but if we don't hurry we will be late to the ball! Come, let's be going." She giggled, pulling me to my feet with such force that I almost toppled over. Hurrying to the door, I grabbed my small clutch bag before pinching my cheeks and locking the door and away we hurried down the hallway, giggling like two misbehaving school girls with no cares in the world.

In a crested carriage not far away from the Opera House sat two men in the dim light, one wearing a sour expression on his face and the other with a savage hunger in his eyes as he thought of all the playthings he could feast his eyes on tonight. The Comte De Chagny sat glumly in his seat, going over questions and approaches he could ask his old friend, frustrated that she had somehow ended up tangled in this whole affair with his brother. How was he was to ask her without offending her and turning her even more against him? Benoit on the other hand sat in arrogant confidence, his presence a domineering and proud one as he sat in his beautiful costume which only enhanced his handsomeness even more. His vanity had led him to choose a simple mask that only covered his eyes and seemed to make his chin look like a carefully sculptured block of stone stick out from underneath. His hands wondered up and down his legs as he thought hungrily of the ladies he'd be able to seduce tonight, then watched his friend in amusement as he let out frustrated sighs here and there.

"I have never seen you get so beat up over a girl. What's the matter with you?"

"I just don't want to offend her! Oh why did she of all people have to get involved in this? She is one of my oldest friends."

"How exactly are you going to question her? Ask her about connections with the resonant Ghost? Oh! How about asking her how many seances she holds a week to get in touch with this spectre?" At Raoul's sour glare, Benoit threw his head back and howled with laughter.

"Shut up, Ben."

"Would you like me to bring a talking board next time so we can all hold hands, light candles and get in contact with the spirits?"

"I said shut up!" He spat angrily, running frustrated hands through his hair. He hated that he had to confront his dear friend about this but she was involved somehow, just... how? Raoul tugged at the collar of his double breasted navy blue sailors jacket as it constricted his throat and glared out of window, depressed to see his exhausted reflection stare back. It was then he noticed with dismay that they had pulled up in front of the ever spectacular Opera house where around fifty men and women of different statures milled about, eyeing up each others costumes and whispering in distaste about a particular costume that some one had dared to wear in their presence. Groaning, Raoul threw open the door, not even bothering to wait for Theodore who had only just managed to climb down from his seat, and jumped out, Benoit following closely behind. Together, the paced up the steps of the Opera House, earning many respectful bows and nods of heads as they stormed up towards the arches before them and entered the building.

The Grand Salon was certainly the most decadent and beautiful locations in the Opera House, although it wasn't necessarily my favourite. No, the Chapel and Erik's lair were but still... How stunning my surroundings were, it made me feel grateful to be able to work in an establishment such as this. The room, whilst narrow and long, was crammed to the walls with stagehands and seamstresses, with chefs and cleaners and actors and ballerinas. Floating amongst them, chatting like the two social butterflies they were, was Messieurs Firmin and Andre, one in an amusing skeleton like costume and the other in a simple golden waistcoat and sequined cape, his balding head poking out from a deep green mask that covered his cheeks and eyes. My eyes wondered up from the people to the ceiling as I admired the barrage of golden chandeliers that twinkled away in the heavens, their warm glow casting a happy atmosphere over everyone. Above the chandeliers, the ceiling, a painted masterpiece that celebrated music and comedy, the painted figures gazing down on us in what looked like pride. Huge columns flanked the walls, golden gilded with the most intricate decoration wrapping their middle sections and people lazily leant against them, sipping their champagne with giddy glee. Meg nudged me in the ribs and pointed towards a huge buxom lady who I realised was Carlotta, flirting with the exclusive invited guests, all men of course and all extremely pleased that Carlotta had turned her attention to them.

"She looks like a huge bat." Meg whispered in my ear and it took all of my restraint not to burst out laughing for she indeed look like some huge predator ready to swoop down with the large billowy gauze hanging under her arms acting like wings.

"Oh stop it! I won't stop laughing if you keep saying things like that!" I giggled, leading her over to the champagne bar where we both took a glass for our enjoyment. The room suddenly hushed when two men strode in, one who I instantly recognised as Raoul and the other I was not certain who it was but I did not like the look of him. Meg nodded towards the stranger and murmured under her breath.

"He's a handsome one, isn't he? Who do you think he is?" She asked as Firmin glided over to greet the two esteemed guests, the conversation picking up once more.

"I don't know but I don't like the look of him. He looks wolfish... See, watch him! Look how he gazes at the woman like they're his prey! I wouldn't trust him, Meg." She murmured an agreement, rubbing her arms as they prickled with goosebumps.

"Just looking at him gives me the shivers."

"Me too... But it seems Carlotta is already trying to wind her way around his little finger." We watched in amazement as Carlotta completely dropped the conversation she was having with the elderly gentleman and flounced her way over to them both, Raoul introducing her un- enthusiastically to his companion. He gazed down at her like she were the lamb and he were the wolf. It was incredibly unnerving.

"Oh that is so typical of her, isn't it? I mean really-" She was cut off by shrill of laughter from Carlotta and then suddenly, as if the plague had descended upon the whole entirety of the room, silence. Complete and utter silence. Meg and I shared confused glances, peering around the onlookers who gazed at the doorway in utter surprise. There stood a man, tall, incredibly domineering with danger that seemed to radiate off of him, his broad shoulders pulled back to display his strength and iron will as he stood staring back at the gawping crowd. He wore a high collared breast jacket, embroidered with black and gold thread that ran it's way down his broad chest. The jacket was blood red in colour and the front stopped just before his waist, where underneath a inky black shirt just showed before it tucked itself into a burgundy coloured cumber band that was shot with black. His trousers too were the same colour as the jacket, slightly fitted but not quite as they shot down to his feet on which a pair of shiny black shoes presented themselves, neat in their presentation. On his side, a rapier hung from it's silver buckle, the hilt a honey gold colour that shone like the sun, the sword itself was encased in a dark leather cover. The back of his jacket shot down into two dagger sharp tails that stopped just below his knees, the ends similar to the cumber band as the crimson red seeped into a darker burgundy colour, the tips fringed with black. But it was his mask that was the most captivating. It resembled a skull. Every bone precisely painted on, every hair line crack in the skull copied with a precise skill, and it covered most of his face apart from his lower lip and chin. The eye sockets were lined with a jet black colour so that it enhanced his eyes, two shining beacons of golden light that I instantly recognised as soon he looked my way. I could not believe that this was Erik standing in the entrance. Like a magnet, I was attracted to his pull and I found myself slowly moving forward to the front of the crowd, feeling Meg's fingers brush my arm in a panicked attempt to hold me back. Taking a few steps forward, I was soon standing in his view and as soon as his eyes found mine, he grinned and strolled forward, one hand resting on his rapier, the other hanging by his side and whilst he appeared confident I could see the anxiousness clear in his eyes. The rest of the world melted away as he stood before me, his familiar smell attacking my senses as he took one of my hands in his and brought it up to his lips. A ghost of a kiss was all he gave, but it was enough to make my whole body shiver with something unknown.

"Mademoiselle Daae, you look absolutely beautiful." He purred, still holding my hand in his.

"Monsieur Destler, you are too kind. You too look incredibly handsome tonight." I imagine he blushed at my words as he blinked at me slowly and gave my hand a gentle squeeze as it rested by his side. Both of us heard footsteps approaching and we looked to see a baffled Firmin and Andre approach us with uncertainty.

"Mademoiselle Daae, please forgive us but your friend has certainly made an impression on everyone. May we ask who he is exactly?" I smiled warmly to dispel any threat Erik was giving off at the moment.

"Of course Messieurs. This is Monsieur Erik Destler, my singing tutor. Erik, these are the managers of the Opera Populaire, Monsieur Richard Firmin and Monsieur Gilles André."

"The pleasure is all mine, gentleman." Erik smiled, holding out a hand to the two now satisfied men. Both took it, shaking it warmly and heartily, grinning like the buffoons they were. I could practically see Erik fighting to bite back his sarcastic, sharp tongue.

"So you are the man we have to thank for Mademoiselle Daae's voice? It is beautiful, so clear and... and..." Firmin struggled for the right word to say as he gesticulated wildly with his hands.

"Angelic?" Erik ventured, taking my hand back in his grasp as I felt his nervousness radiate off of him.

"Yes!" Firmin beamed, holding out his hands as if he were praying to the lord, "Angelic! Certainly!"

"Well she was born with a talent. I've done my best to nurture it. Hopefully she will have more chance to show case it instead of being cast to the minor roles, don't you think gentleman seeing as it so... Angelic?" He smiled, though there was a slight bite to his tone. The two managers blanched and mumbled excuses and tripped over themselves as they spoke but Erik was not listening. Instead he looked down at me, smiled and squeezed my hand once more. I could see that he wanted to be away from them so I started to lead him towards Meg who stood there practically shaking.

"Please excuse us Messieurs. I would just like to introduce my tutor to some friends of mine." The bumbling managers stepped back, intimidated by Erik's sharp tone and allowed us to step away, the conversation slowly picking up once more.

"You certainly know how to make an entrance." I whispered in to his ear. He smirked.

"Of course. I am known to be quite dramatic after all." We had reached Meg by then who stood rooted to the spot staring at Erik in evident fear. She was the only one who knew his true identity.

"Erik, this is-"

"Meg Giry. I know, of course I know Ana's daughter. I've been watching over her ever since she was a young girl. I assume you know who I am, correct?" He asked, gently and the fear dissipated slightly in her eyes.

"Y-yes... But... What do you mean 'watching over me?'" Erik gave her a warm smile making Meg loose even more of her nervousness around him.

"You really think I was going to let the daughter of my closest friend run riot in the Opera House and not look out for her? There are many sketchy characters under this roof, Meg. I would not want you to be approached by them." Meg scrunched up her nose then looked at Erik in wonder.

"It was you! You were the one who saved my life that night!" It was my turn to look confused.

"What do you mean Meg?"

"One night, when I was walking through the corridors to my dressing room, one of the stagehands approached me.. Christine do you remember Leon?"

"Yes... He left quite suddenly if I recall."

"Well... It was he that approached me in corridor, he was drunk... He tried to, well... do unseemly things but there was a voice and suddenly Leon was pulled back into the darkness. I heard a few cries and when I shined my light on him he was black and blue. That's why he left the next day... That was you wasn't it?" Erik said nothing, only stared at her kindly. "Oh monsieur, thank you so much! You saved me from shame!"

"And I would do it again if either of you girls, or any of the ballet rats were put into such unfortunate circumstances such as that. It was my honour, Meg." She took his free hand in his and buried her face into his arm to hide the silent tears that ran down her face. I watched in awe as Erik allowed her to find comfort even if he went rigid as a pole at the sudden contact before she pulled away, wiping away fresh tears.

"Thank you Monsieur. Thank you a thousand times over." Erik only smiled, before gazing down at me and I could only stare back in absolute adoration of his beautiful soul. The music started to pick up and suddenly couples raced to the centre, grabbing each other with laughter as they waltzed around the hall, merry and singing. My eyes drifted over to them, watching them in silent wonder when I felt myself being dragged over by Erik who gently took me by the waist and started to dance with me around the hall. It was dizzying, enjoyable experience that I had when I danced with him and tried pulling myself closer so that we wouldn't trip over each other. He noticed and grinned down at me.

"Thank you for coming tonight." I murmured as we span around the room, feeling eyes upon our dancing figures.

"Anything for you, Christine."

"You were so confident back then with the managers. How did you do it without killing them?" Erik laughed and lifted me into the air.

"Well I thought you'd disapprove of me doing that in front of everyone so I refrained. And I may seem confident but this is my idea of hell, everyone gawking and staring, whispering behind my back."

"They're only whispering about how incredibly handsome you look." He gazed down at me sadly.

"But I'm not." I was about to reply when we were interrupted mid step by and familiar face and I groaned inwardly. Raoul De Chagny stood before us, proud, chest puffed out, managers lingering at his side and that strange man staring at me like I was some expensive trinket.

"Forgive me for interrupting, but could I please steal your partner for a dance, Monsieur?" Though I could practically see Erik fight back the urge to snap at Raoul, he was surprisingly courteous and offered my hand to him with utter reluctance.

"Of course Monsieur." He replied gruffly and away I was whisked by Raoul, whilst I watched over his shoulder as Benoit snaked his way through the crowds and Erik was approached by the managers who appeared eager to talk to him. Away we waltzed, further and further away from Erik not talking the whole way until suddenly we were at the entrance of the Grand Salon. Raoul pulled me roughly by the arm out of the room and down a warren of corridors until I realised that we were in the ballerinas living quarters. It was just us.

"What on earth are you up to Raoul?" I snapped, rubbing my now sore arm as he paced up and down in front of me. The room was barely lit and I had a hard time trying to discern his facial features.

"I need to talk to you." He mumbled, removing his mask to rub his tired eyes that had lost their brightness.

"Why couldn't we have talked in the Salon?" He waved his hand as if to dismiss my question.

"Because I needed privacy. It's about something very important." I rested my back against the wall and watched him warily as he continued to pace about.

"Go on then." I sighed tiredly.

"Firstly I'd... Like to apologise about my behaviour of late. I've just been so stressed with this whole affair and running the estate on my own... It's been difficult." Well that was unexpected.

"I understand."

"Secondly... The reason I dragged you away is because I needed to talk to you about something."

"Ok..."

"The other day, I had a witness come round and tell me some evidence that I found most... enlightening. You see.. her friend was there at the time and gave me a good description of the murderer." I swallowed thickly. This was not what I wanted to be hearing.

"Well that's good but I don't see what this has to do with me." Raoul stopped pacing and looked me dead in eye. There was something cold brewing there, something calculating that scared me slightly.

"The murderer wore mask and had a voice like an angel. The murderer was dressed all in black and had wild golden eyes. The murderer shouted _your_ name when he went to attack my brother." I could feel the breath in me stop, my blood seemed to turn to an icy river as it trickled through my veins. The hairs on my arms went up, my eyes widened slightly, face draining of colour... I could only thank the lord above that it was too dim to make any of this out.

"Well... There are hundreds of girls called Christine... What makes you think the murderer was shouting _my_ name in particular?" Raoul cocked his head and stepped closer, arms hanging at his side with hands clenched up tightly.

"It's more the fact that it was a masked man lurking around the opera house with a voice like an angel, who reminds me of someone in particular that I know you have a _fascinating_ relationship with." Although my blood felt frozen and my mind was racing with a hundred panicked thoughts, I managed to let out a undignified snort of laughter to make Raoul think otherwise.

"Let me get this straight... You think the Phantom of the Opera, a _ghost,_ murdered your brother?"

"I don't think that, I know it's true."

"Can you hear yourself? Raoul, you sound crazy! Ghosts don't exist! It could have been any masked lunatic running around! It's just a coincidence that my name happened to be mentioned!" I cried, exasperated but also desperately frightened how Raoul knew the truth.

"NO!" He roared, slamming hand either side of my head so that I was hemmed in, his eyes staring down at me in feverish anger, "Everyone keeps saying I am but I know I am not. You are hiding something, I can see it in your eyes Christine! I know that damned Opera Ghost is involved! I bet he tells you everything, you're his little _pet_ after all. Always praising you, making you the star so... _Tell me what you know."_ He hissed that last sentence in such a ferocious tone that tears pricked in my eyes. He was incredibly unnerving but I did not want to show him any weakness or emotion, so I pushed him away from me with all of my strength and ran to the doorway. Of course he followed, grabbing me by the arm again. "TELL ME." He screamed in my face, but all I could do was let the tears pour down my cheeks and slap him harshly round the face with my free hand. It made him let go of me at least as he staggered back in surprise, rubbing his reddening cheek.

"Don't you _dare_ ever touch me like that again. And don't you _dare_ ever be as monstrous as you have just been to me right now. What happened to you!?" I cried, overwhelmed with anger and fear, "You used to be my closest friend, a gentleman, but now... You're a cruel, stuck up fop like all of the rest! I don't know anything about your brothers murder and I sincerely doubt a stupid ghost had anything to do with it! You horrible, horrible man!" I practically screamed before turning away and ran down the corridor, tears streaming down my face not even daring to look back at Raoul who did not follow me. As soon as I had turned down a few corners, I leant back against the wall and let my tears flow freely, dismayed that such a long relationship had now been broken. I knew deep in my heart that I could never trust Raoul again. He was no longer my friend. And, if he meant he was out after Erik, then he was my enemy. Realising this, I squeezed out the last tears, took a deep breath and let my mind and heart harden. If this was the way Raoul wanted it to be, so be it. Picking my self up, I slowly treaded the floor below me, anger flowing through me like a raging river. It was was when I reached the doorway that I heard a blood curdling scream.

 **I HOPE THIS IS ENOUGH! Will update soon I promise, besides the fun is just about to begin ;) Thanks for being patient and stuff! As usual I only own Benoit and all rights go to Gaston Leroux etc... Enjoy the cliff hanger guys... ;) (And awfully sorry for any spelling mistakes or grammar issues I just can't really be bothered to read back through the whole thing)**


	33. Chapter 33

I had never been so utterly nervous in all of my life. Now that Christine had been torn from my side by that dastardly Comte De Chagny, I was left in the ever annoying company of the two bulbous fools who I tormented on a daily basis. They flocked around me like moths to a flame.

"Monsieur Destler, it really is an honour to meet the man who tutored our dear Mademoiselle Daae." I had to refrain from rolling my eyes at their evident brown nosing and looked away. I was alarmed to see Raoul De Chagny's companion lurking around the ballet rats, winning them over with his charming smile and made notice to myself to keep an eye on him. I did not trust him at all.

"Yes, though I can't say I have ever seen you at any of the performances." Andre murmured, fingering the tuft of hair that he was currently trying to grow on his chin.

"I've attended a few but crowds such as these aren't really my thing. I prefer my solitude." I murmured smoothly, snatching a glass of champagne of a passing waitresses tray.

"And what of the performances? What did you make of them? Surely, with world class like Carlotta they'd interest you! What is your opinion?" Firmin asked, fiddling with his mask, a trait I found fairly irritating even though I did it constantly myself.

"You wish for my opinion?" I murmured dubiously, finding it ironic that my notes as the Opera Ghost weren't taken for granted but here they were latching on to my every word.

"Well of course! We value everyone's opinion here at the Opera House!" I had to still my laughter. They would soon regret asking for my opinion point blank even if I did try to tell them it everyday.

"Very well. I'm sorry to say Messieurs that Carlotta is not of world class. She is forever a pitch out of tune and sings out of her nose. The performances I have seen are sub standard. Your first oboist for example cannot play in tune, your second violinist is terribly out of tempo with his companions and need I even mention the god awful singing that I have to endure on a regular basis just so I can see my student shine for a few seconds with the meagre roles you hand out to her. If you want my advice, ditch Carlotta and hire Christine. Your opera house will bloom, gentleman, and select more racy operas. The crowd grow bored with the same drivel you advertise day after day." I told them bluntly, watching with amusement as they quickly grew disgruntled.

"Well Sir that is a very blunt opinion. Very blunt indeed." Andre huffed, fiddling absently with his golden cufflinks.

"It is what you asked for." I replied cooly, taking a sip of my champagne. To my misfortune, it tasted like lukewarm horse piss.

"How could you possibly know all of that anyway? About the violinist and such? No one has ever pointed it out and they sound fine to me." Firmin mumbled. I refrained from rolling my eyes.

"Music is my life. It is was I live and breathe. I am a virtuoso Messieurs, so my hearing is attuned to the music surrounding us. I am the harshest critic alive, even Christine doesn't get away with it. Nobody is perfect Messieurs, so I strive to make them so, to showcase my talent. Something you are failing to do at the moment." The rhythm of the music suddenly changed, the notes jumpier and lively, hundreds of colours blurred past my vision as dancers twirled around and jumped in the air. People with giddy with happiness, their figures illuminated in the hundreds of candles that flickered around us. Their feet clapped against the marble floor, fabric blurred into a flurry of colours and sparkles as dancers rushed past me, making me almost want to be part of them. But, before I could I detach myself from the two idiots before me, they stopped me with more questions.

"Indeed? What classical training have you had then Monsieur?"

"None." I answered truthfully. "I trained myself. I listened to great artists, I learned pitch and tone, emotion and expression. I taught Christine everything I know. That's evidence enough, don't you think?"

"Yes... I suppose so." Firmin reluctantly agreed, though he did not make eye contact with me. He was already interested in something else happening in the corner of the room, a commotion of sorts. I wondered if perhaps Benoit had lurched on some poor unfortunate ballet rat but worryingly, he was no where to be seen. Though, I did spot Madame Giry hovering in the corner, a worried look plastered across her face and I knew instantly something was amiss.

"Excuse me Messieurs, I just need to talk to someone." Dipping my head, I quickly strolled away before they could protest, skirting around the side of the room ever so conscious of all the glances I was getting. I scanned the crowed, dismayed to see that Raoul and Christine were no where to be seen. Where were they? Lost in my thought, I smacked into a small ballet rat who had spun a bit too much and staggered across my path. I had to lurch towards the pillar just within my grasp and hold on as Jammes tumbled to her feet, earning a reproachful glare for me. She had always been clumsy footed.

"F-forgive me Monsieur, I-I got a b-bit carried away!" She quivered, shrinking away in fear as my tall figure towered over her.

"No harm done though, am I right Monsieur?" A familiar voice sounded. Madame Giry had met me half way. A stage hand bent down and helped her up, quickly ushering her away as I brushed the tiny specks of dust that had settled on my costume. "Erik." She greeted me, looking me up and down in amusement.

"Ana."

"It's not like you to mingle with such a crowd." She said, smirking.

"Christine convinced me to come. Though considering she is my company for this evening I can't say I have seen her for quite a while." Ana looked at me in worry, her black costume glittering in the candlelight.

"I'm afraid I haven't seen Meg in a while either. Nor have I seen that man that accompanied Raoul." I looked at her worried face and felt exactly the same. I knew that man was up to something, nor did I like his motive. From the moment I clapped eyes on him I knew that he was trouble through and through. He was dangerous, more so than me in some ways. I shared her concern as I scanned the crowd, my head higher than anyone else's and did not see either Meg or Christine.

"Who is that man anyway?"

"Benoit Lesauvage. A close companion of the Comte De Changy. He has attended a few rehearsals... I'm surprised you don't know who he is."

"Yes, well.. I haven't been attending rehearsals of late. I've had more pressing matters to attend to." I murmured, ignoring her pointed look.

"Ah yes. You're little absence away from the Opera House, when we had more peaceful times..." She smiled slyly but I merely rolled my eyes at her cheekiness until she grew serious again, "Where did you go Erik?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." I smiled softly, gazing down at her seeing that she wouldn't budge until I have her a proper answer. "I took Christine to the village where I was born. She wanted to know about my life, so I showed her."

"Erik... I... I can't believe it! Was... was _she_ there?" The thought of my mother made me grimace, an improvement really when I used to downright shudder at the very mention of her relation to me.

"She was. We... reconciled I guess. Christine wants her to come see a performance here, something that I am still trying to dissuade her from."

"I can't believe it Erik." She uttered, stunned. I had to admit I felt the same. Eager to get off the subject, I cleared my throat and went back to scanning the crowd.

"Me neither. Anyway, I'll go look for the girls. They can't be far. Besides, I need to get away from those two pompous fools." I muttered, gesturing to the managers who were bumbling around like the old fools they were. Ana nodded in thanks and we went our different ways, she to the cluster of ballet rats who were gathering around Jammes and looking at me with a mixture of fear and annoyance. People seemed to move out of my way when I approached them so instead I stuck to the sides, threading my way through the crowd that were sickeningly giddy with happiness. I was deeply concerned for the whereabouts of both girls, particularly Christine as she seemed to have completely disappeared and I didn't trust Raoul, not completely. I had a few shreds of hope that he wouldn't hurt seeing as they were good friends but still... People change. I know I have, all because of Christine. My hand fluttered to my mask, made sure it was still in place and intact and made my way out of the Salon, scanning up and down the corridor for sight of either girl. A few people had drifted out along with me and mingled against the walls, the bright costumes now looking less gaudy in the dim light, eyes tired from a long night of dancing. Stagehands and ballerinas infiltrated the top of the grand staircase that I had just reached as well as a group of hysterical woman flirting outrageously with their partners. They were of upper class position, emphasised by their plush costumes, bejeweled with hundreds of tiny diamonds and sequins so that their dresses looked like oceans glittering in the sun when they moved. Laughter, protests, voices of all sorts attacked my senses, but I did not see either Meg or Christine until my hearing picked up a voice of distress under all of the pretence that was surrounding me.

"Excuse me." I said to an incredibly voluptuous woman who was blocking my path. Someone was calling for help from the bottom floor but it was muffled and indiscreet, I seemingly being the only one who could hear it. She shrieked in protest when I had to physically remove her out of my way when she refused to move, but I ignored her, carrying on with my quest. Unfortunately she and some of her cronies decided to follow me down, all shouting angrily as they huffed down the beautiful marble steps of the grand staircase. The staircase had always been one of my favourite features of the Opera House, with it's warm ochre coloured marble pillars surrounding me, the elegant candelabras stuffed full of candles that emitted a warm glow making me very much like at home. If it wasn't for the pressing matter that I was attending to, I would've basked in it's glory. Instead, I was being tailed by four very irate women and two burly men who were flustering after their partners. I passed many more people who looked on in amusement at the spectacle I had created as I rounded the corner to head down to the bottom floor, passing the magnificent bronze statues that held their candelabras aloft with splendour. My feet pounded against the marble stairs, the whimpering noise getting louder until I finally reached the floor and cast a quick, worried gaze around seeing nothing but lurking dark shadows. Normally I would've welcomed these dear friends but now they were not what I needed. As I had stopped, my small party had managed to catch up with me.

"Really Sir, I must scold you for the actions you took back then." The voluptuous lady puffed, fanning herself furiously with her pink paper fan. I looked over my shoulder at her red face and shrugged.

"Frankly Madame, I don't give a damn. Now if you will excuse me there is someone in trouble and I must find them."

"How rude!" Her friend exclaimed, the lady with the fan was obviously too lost for words to counter back. Rolling my eyes I turned to look at them again when behind them, next to the staircase in the murky shadows I saw her. Meg, tears streaming down her face, a hand clapped over her mouth as she was pressed against the wall, the other hand roaming freely over her body, over her breasts. She whimpered pitifully. The red veil of anger that I was so accustomed too quickly dropped over my eyes and I stormed over to where she was being held against her will, her eyes flooding with relief when she saw it was me. Grabbing her attacker by the shoulder, I threw him into the wall behind him and crushed his neck with my hand, fury seeping out of every pore.

"You do not _touch her_." I hissed, tightening my grip whilst the face of Benoit drained slowly of life and started to tinge with blue.

"Erik... Erik! Don't! Please... Don't..." I loosened my hold on Benoit at her words and allowed him to sink to the floor, watching as he crawled around, gasping for breath. But I was still not done with him. I squatted down, gripped his chin between my fingers and forced him to look at me with those horrible eyes. How they poured utter hatred towards me, there was such malice present there that I feared no matter what I said it would not matter to him. But I had to make him understand what I would do to him should he ever attempt to defile a lady ever again.

"You dare even touch Mademoiselle Giry again or even so much look at her I swear on my life I will hunt you down and then I will _kill you._ Don't you ever treat a lady like you have just done ever again or I will make you pay and you will rot in the god forsaken hell hole where you belong." I spat, venom lacing my every word. He looked at me warily but still the hatred was present, yet I chose to ignore it. Straightening up, I turned towards Meg to see if she was ok, dismayed to see her sobbing heavily, clutching at the front of her dress.

"Meg, are you ok? Did he hurt you?" My hands ghosting over her arms, not wanting to frighten her with my touch.

" _Erik..."_ Was all that she cried and upon noticing that the front of her dress had been torn, I hastily removed my jacket and bade her to put it on, averting my eyes as she did so. When she had finished, I smiled encouragingly and held out my hand but before she could take it she yelled out in surprised as a heavy weight launched himself at my back. It seemed Benoit was still not finished with me. He clung on to my back, trying to bring me down as he scratched at my chest and neck but I knew he was weak from lack of air, so I simply threw my head back and made contact with his nose, hearing a satisfying crunch as it broke under contact. Howling, he let go, staggering backwards but regained his balance, fury blazing in his eyes. Again he launched himself at me, throwing a wild haymaker at my body that I quickly avoided and landed a punch in his stomach, making him double over in pain. He resisted collapsing to the floor however and stood up, clutching his belly in pain.

"You say you'll track me down but how can you when you don't even know what I look like?" He snarled, tapping his mask with bloodied fingers.

"You're the Comte De Chagny's right hand man. I'm sure it wouldn't be that hard, seeing as you follow him round like a faithful dog." I replied calmly, watching him as doubled over again, wheezing in pain.

"Ah.. but... this is where we reach the crux of the problem, isn't it Monsieur Erik? How will you be able to track me down when you will be dead?" He hissed, making a sudden movement to his boot where I saw something silver flash in his hand.

"ERIK LOOK OUT!" Meg shouted, gesturing to the dagger that had now appeared in Benoit's hand and was quickly making it's way to my abdomen. Fortunately, my quick reflexes managed to stop the incident from happening but it now meant that both of my hands where busy fighting for my life.

"You are a stupid man if you think stabbing me in front of witnesses is a good idea." I hissed. Howling in rage, I watched in horror as Benoit swung his fist towards my face where it made a sickening contact and I felt air gush on my face as my mask flew off and clatter across the marble floor. Time seemed to still as I heard the horrifying gasps around me and in a panic, I let go of the hand that was resisting my force and felt the blade pierce my abdomen, the blade slicing through my skin like butter. Yet I did not even register the searing pain, nor the fact that I had a dagger stuck in my body, one which Benoit quickly twisted further in before lurching away with dagger in hand, looking at my face with pure disgust tinged with a mixture of pleasure. All I heard where screams and gasps of horror from the crowd that had gathered around to watch our fiasco, the lady with the fan letting out the most blood curdling scream ever imaginable. One woman fainted. Everyones face drained of colour. Despite the fact I had blood pouring from me all I could hear where the torments of my childhood. Devil Child. Demon. _Living Corpse._ Chant after chant after chant resonated like a pounding drum in my mind, making me scream in despair as someone was sick in the corner. With one look of dismay at Meg's horrified face, I let out another cry and stumbled away, screaming at the voices to go away. Out in to the cold Parisian night I staggered, looking at the pallid face of the moon that shone unkindly down on my face, twisting it's features even more. With a roar of rage, I lurched forward and went back to where I belonged. To the darkened bowels of the Opera House.

 **OH MY GOD OK I'M SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG PLEASE DON'T BE MAD! As usual I don't own any of the characters apart from Ben, unfortunately, and all rights go to Gaston Leroux etc. Oh goodness dramatic huh? Of course, no other way ;) Please please do review and favourite my story it means so much to me that people are actually reading it! I promise the next instalment will soon be on it's way and it should be a good one... :) Thank you guys! .R.A.R.S.A.L.**


	34. Chapter 34

"I hated them. Every single one of them, especially that bastard Benoit. How dare he remove my security, my first piece of clothing... How dare he allow the Parisian society to stand there in plain sight so they could mock me. Strange how I only felt red hot anger flood my senses instead of the searing pain that was clustering around my stomach as blood dribbled out between my clenched fingers. Even my sight was growing hazy but that did not stop the pure hatred that I felt seep through my very being. I managed to make it to my abode, clumsily opening the door and leaving blood stains on the stone wall and floor as I stumbled through, grabbing a scarf off the wall so I could compress my wound further. I looked at my surroundings, at the parlour room, the delicate ornaments... How I wanted to destroy them. The urge was mounting in my body, to swipe it away, to crush the glass beneath my feet... Destroy everything these monstrous hands had tainted. I gritted my teeth, resisting the anger that flared inside me, leaning against the doorway in a faint as the room around me span. Then, I thought of Christine, how she abandoned me, how she went of with Raoul and left me all alone. Thought of the screams, the gasps of horror, the disgust and that's when I couldn't contain my rage any longer. I lashed out on the nearest thing to me, a golden coloured lamp that I threw with all my might against the wall letting it smash to smithereens. I overturned chairs, tables, smashed ornaments, tore pictures off the wall and how it felt so good, so worthwhile to let all this anger out. I was about to smash a particularly handsome figurine when the pain overtook my anger with searing shock and left me standing there, stunned at how my stomach felt it was on fire. Scrabbling around for the scarf, I finally found it in a heap next to the fireplace and pressed it to my wound once more, panting heavily as the contact was unbearable. Stupid idiot, to waste my last shreds of energy on the destruction of my parlour room and I was quick to faint in the nearest standing chair, which I noticed with surprise was Christine's. The pain was now lacing it's way around my body and I could not hold back the scream as my whole body was wracked with this unbearable sensation. Curse that bastard, curse him! It was when I noticed my vision began to fade that one little thought interrupted my mind. I was probably going to die. Not only that, but I would die alone, unheard, unloved. My biggest fear was slowly coming true.

My throat felt constricted and tight, filled with a burning sensation as the acidic bile slowly crept its way up my throat, into my mouth. I slowly swallowed it down as I burst on to the top of the grand staircase receiving a few surprised looks from the crowd that had gathered there. Many peered down, as if to see what the commotion was, a few watched as I elbowed my way through to the top of the stairs, earning a few reproachful glances and mutters. As quickly as my heeled shoes would allow it, I ran down the stairs almost breaking my neck as I slipped across the marble flooring but it did not stop me racing down the second set of stairs. It was there I encountered Benoit, with a menacing sneer plastered across his face, his hands hidden underneath his cloak that had been stained with slightly darker substance. I realised with horror that it was blood and looked at him in disgust.

"What have you done?" I whispered in horror, clutching at my skirt so fiercely that my knuckles turned white from the strain.

"What any man in my position would have done. Slay the beast."

"The only beast around here is you." I hissed, leaving his side before he could say anything more. I had to go see Erik. I rounded the corner of the bottom set of steps and was met by a small group of people, all equally as horrified and planted to the spot. One woman had even fainted as she was sprawled across the cold marble floor. No one had even bothered to attend to her yet, so I reached into my bag and pulled out my smelling salts, passing it to the nearest by stander. That's when I saw Meg in the corner with her back to me, wearing Erik's jacket that was slightly too big for her small frame. I quickly approached her, touching her shoulder gently yet she still jumped at the contact, though seemed relieved to see that it was me.

"Oh Christine, thank goodness you're here." She sighed, grasping onto my hand for dear life.

"Meg, what happened? Where is Erik?"

"Oh Christine... He... I... Benoit accosted me, took me down here, tried to do terrible things to me," she sobbed, "Erik came to the rescue only the got in a fight. When Benoit tried to stab him but Erik stopped it only... His mask was punched off and I guess he let go in shock of what happened and... The dagger, it just slipped in..." Meg cast her eyes down to a few dots of blood that were scattered on the floor and shuddered at the sight.

"Which way did he go?" I asked urgently and she pointed towards the front doors. The street entrance, of course. That must have been the way he went. "Meg listen to me. I need you to go find your mother and tell her what has happened. Tell her to come and find Erik and I. She'll know where to go, please... I need you to do this now." Sensing the urgency in my voice, she nodded somberly but before she made her way, she handed me his mask.

"Tell him... I'm... I'm sorry for what happened. It's all my fault." Before I could protest she had left and knowing I was wasting time, I quickly headed for the exit and went towards the street entrance hidden in a darkened alleyway on the side of the Opera Populaire. Finding the gate unlocked was worrying at first, but it was the blood I saw upon lighting a torch that deepened that fear. Quickly, I wound my way down the tunnels, skipping over puddles and grimacing at the haunting shadows that my torch cast on the cavern walls. It wasn't long until I reached the edge of the lake and noticed the chill in the air that was being cast off the icy pool of water next to me, making me shudder. When I cast my light upon Erik's door, the first thing I saw were bloody handprints that had scrabbled at the hidden lock to open it. He didn't even bother to close it behind him. Though the door was heavy, I managed to push it open, almost falling into the hallway before catching myself on the coat stand. I decided to leave the door open, for Madame Giry and quickly went about turning the lamps on so I could see what I was doing. As I placed his mask on a side table, I noticed that the air was thick with tension and the metallic smell of blood that made my nose twinge in disgust, I had never been a fan of the substance. Looking upon the floor, I saw droplets of blood that trailed their way to the parlour room and disappeared underneath the door. I didn't waste any time bursting in to the room, gasping at the sheer destruction it had met under Erik's hands. Lamps were destroyed, as where the little figures and glass ornaments, books where missing pages as they lay strewn on the floor and chairs had been overturned. All except one which was occupied by a dark figure. Hurrying around the mess, I turned up all the lamps so I could see in more detail before hurrying over to Erik who was still, his hands pressed against his stomach. His eyes were closed. I choked out a gasp, his deadly still stupor frightening more than anything I have ever seen. He can't be dead, not now.

"Erik! Erik! Please... Please wake up!" I exclaimed shaking his form vigourously. His head lolled back and forth but after a while his eyes reopened and he gazed around in a confusion. Letting out a low groan, he lifted his head and I could have wept with joy there and then to see that he was still alive. "Erik! Oh thank God!" I murmured.

"Christine..." He uttered so gently, lifting a shaking hand to my face. It was covered in blood but I let him stroke my cheek. Whilst he was distracted, I withdrew his other hand away from the wound so I could inspect it and grimaced at the rivulets of blood that were staining his cumberband and shirt. I would need to remove his cumberband and clean the mess so I could get a better look.

"I'll be right back." I said in a hushed voice, kissing his palm before hurrying away to fetch a bowl of boiling hot water and a towel. He moaned in protest. Soon I was back with water that was cooled so it wouldn't scald him and placed it by his feet. I slipped off his cumberband and rested my hands on his torso, giving him an unwavering look of determination. "Erik, I'm going to have to undo your shirt." Though he was weak, he managed to shake his head quite vividly, pushing my hands away at each attempt that I tried to undo the pearly buttons. "Erik, for goodness sake, stop being so stubborn! This is for your own health!" I snapped, managing to undo a few buttons whilst pushing away his prying hands. I quickly understood why he didn't want me revealing his body as the patterns of scars that criss crossed across his body made themselves evident and I had to stifle a gasp at what I saw. His body, battered beyond belief and so slender that I believed he was almost as skinny as me. I quickly averted my gaze and eased the pressure on his wound. Picking up the now dampened towel, I gently wiped away some of the smeared blood that made his wound look ten times worse than it was. Still, more welled up out of the cut and ran across his stark white skin so I wrung out the towel and repeated the process. It was hard, really, to listen to the whimpers of pain that he was emitting. It hurt my heart so much, I wanted to comfort him, bring him peace but instead I brought him more pain. Once the wound was cleared of blood, I applied a clean towel and pressed down gently, gazing up at him in helplessness. He patted the arm of the chair so that's where I sat, compressing his wound with one hand and wiping his clammy head with a cool damp cloth.

"Erik... Tell me what to do... I don't know what to do." I sniffed, unable to keep the tears at bay any longer.

"C-Christine... I don't... expect you to do anything." He said through shallow breaths, squeezing his eyes shut as another wave of pain washed over him, his face contorted into a grimace.

"There must be something..."

"Sew... Sew..." He trailed off, his breath hitching before exhaling a shuddering breath, "The wound... needs to be.. sewn... but you don't have... have to do it." I lifted the towel and stared at the ugly jagged cut and knew that despite the fact he needed it, I would not be able to accomplish that task. My hands were too shaky, I was jittery with nerves and the cut made me feel sick to the core. This was much worse than the bathroom incident.

"Erik... I... I can't!" I sighed, brushing a lock of his hair that was plastered to his forehead out of the way. He nodded in understanding, resting his head against my shoulder as he grew too weary to hold it up on it's own accord.

"It's ok Christine. You're... already doing a great... job. Just stay with me... that's.. that's all I ask incase... I... I die..."

"No. No!" I exclaimed, kissing his damp forehead, "You are not going to die. Not on my watch." He let out a shuddering laugh, nestling his head deeper into my shoulder.

"May... Maybe... But the world is... better off without me."

"That's not true. My world would be a cold, desolate and horrible place to be without you by my side. I cannot imagine it without you." He fell silent at that and I knew he was drinking in my words.

"R...Really?"  
"Yes. Oh Erik... Please listen to me this time... Please hear me speak the truth..." I uttered, shifting so I could look at his face that peered up at me in absolute wonder, "I love you. emSo much. /emWhen Meg told me what happened, I almost fainted because knowing that you were hurt and in danger was like a dagger to my heart. Because you are my heart. You are my soul. Without you... I... I am nothing! It is you who keeps me going everyday, who inspires me, who makes me want to be a better person. God, my love for you will last an infinity and there is nothing you can do to change that. I love you.." I breathed, letting my passionate words wrap around him like a warm blanket. I watched as he blinked away the tears and gave me a watery smile.

"You really mean it?"

"Yes."

"I... I love you to, Christine. With... all my heart." Smiling gently, I stroked his cheek and he leant in to my touch.

"So you can't die, ok? Not now." He laughed softly, then grimaced in pain.

"I'll... I'll try." As if on cue, we both heard a commotion in the hallway, people clattering into things and sending them flying. I looked up in alarm but was immediately relieved to see Madame Giry standing there, with a very bewildered Meg standing behind her and to my surprise, Nadir who was already pushing past the two ladies.

"Let me see him." He demanded, storming over to where we sat and knelt before him, removing my hand and towel from the wound. He sucked in a breath at the sight.

"Nadir..." Erik breathed, moaning in pain when Nadir pressed the towel back down on the wound. He seemed surprised at the mention of his name, perhaps he was so used to the word 'Daroga' passing through Erik's lips.

"It's ok Erik, we'll get you through this." He reassured, patting his thigh before glancing up at me. "We need a needle and strong thread, perhaps some laudanum if there is any?" Erik shook his head weakly.

"N...None."

"No pain killers at all?" Again Erik shook his head and Nadir sighed.

"Ok... Just a needle and thread, gauze, bandages, some clean water with a pinch of salt and towels... Tweezers if you can find some and scissors... " I went away to fetch the items and by the time I had got back, Nadir and Madame Giry had maneuvered him from the chair on to the floor which explained the short cries of pain that I had tried my best to block out when I was rooting around for some tweezers. Nadir sat by his torso with his back to the fire and Madame Giry sat opposite, grasping on to his hand. Meg sat at his feet, though her gaze was adverted to the floor. I didn't if this was because of his face or the blood as she had always been squeamish of it. Nadir glanced up at my approach and motioned to put the equipment next to him before advising me to sit behind Erik and rest his head on my lap. I rested it gently in the soft material of my dress, brushing his hair out of his eyes, before taking his other hand and gently rubbed my thumb over his palm. He returned my gesture, giving my hand a slight squeeze, staring up at me with those wonderful golden eyes that screamed pain. I knew, looking at the needle that Nadir sterilized in the flame of a candle, that the pain was just about to get even worse.

"Meg, I need you to hold down his legs with all of your might. Ana, I suggest you do the same." The two ladies took their position, pressing down the hands on his spindly legs. "Christine, please take both of his hands and refrain them from touching me whilst I sew up this wound. I don't want him whacking my hands out of the way. And put the small rolled up towel in his mouth... he'll need it." He murmured wearily, threading the needle with steady hands. I grasped his other hand, giving it a tight squeeze, never breaking eye contact with him, putting the towel in his mouth.

"It's ok Erik. I'm here. Concentrate on me." He nodded tiredly, already dreading the pain that he was about to witness. Firstly, Nadir dampened a towel, removed the rag that was already there and opened the wound slightly, making Erik hiss in pain.

"I'm going to have to clean it out. Fortunately, it looks like no major organs have been hit and the blood has stopped coming out. You've been extremely lucky, my friend." Erik moaned in a muffled voice. Quickly, Nadir set to cleaning out the wound, making Erik's legs and arms spasm in pain as he tossed his head back and forth, groaning all the while. Nadir's eye flitted over to me and gave me a steady look. "Keep him calm, Christine. I don't want him going in to shock." I squeezed Erik's hands and he stared up at me wildly, so I started to sing a soft, soothing song which calmed him down immediately as he looked at me with dreamy eyes. Dreamy until the first prick of the needle went through his skin and he screamed through the cloth, shaking his legs violently as Nadir carried on, unwavering. On and on he went, Erik with tears streaming down his face as he screamed in pain, me crying along side him as the two Giry's struggled to keep his legs pinned to the floor. A few stitches later, Nadir had finished, clearing away the bloody mess before bandaging up the wound. Erik lay in my arms, panting heavily after wrenching one of his hands free to free his mouth from the towel. Tears would not stop falling down his face, so I wiped them away and leant down to kiss his forehead, murmuring to him that he was the bravest man I knew.

After cleaning up, we went about getting him comfy on the floor, cleaning the debris and blood, making sure that he was warm enough. I wiped away the sweat that had gathered on his forehead with a cold cloth, then proceeded to dampen his arms and chest, which was now fully exposed. Nadir had done away with that soiled garment a while ago. Soon enough, he fell asleep though discomfort was clear on his face, but somehow I managed to drag myself away to where the Giry's and Nadir sat drinking coffee in the kitchen, each in their own bubble of stunned silence. I needed to tell them about Raoul's threat, enquire as to how Ana managed to find Nadir and most of all... If Erik was going to be ok.

 **Okay there we go.. probably won't be any updates for a while! Sorry about that... as usual I don't own any of the characters and all rights go to Gaston Leroux etc... thanks for the reviews! Damn the Benoit, hey? At least Christine has managed to get her feelings across.**


	35. Chapter 35

Though my dress was bloody and my hands covered in the now dried, cracked substance, I still sat down with the others in the kitchen and grasped a cup of coffee in my hand. None of us could really quite process the last few hours, especially due to the fact that our mutual friend almost died an hour ago. I felt my blood boil with anger as I thought of that horrible creature that did that to Erik as well as his companion who were now both enemies in my eyes and I tried my hardest to think of a way to stop them getting close to Erik again. However, my thoughts were interrupted by Madame Giry, who enquired what exactly happened that night.

"It is my fault, Mama." Meg murmured meekly, shifting the cup about on the table. I shook my head and reached across so I could rest my hand on hers gently.

"Don't be silly, Meg. None of this is your fault." But she merely shook her head, removing her hand away from mine.

"Benoit approached me and told me that he needed to talk to me in private, about recent rehearsals and some improvements he thought might be helpful. I foolishly agreed to accompany him but instead he dragged me down to the lower foyer and accosted me there... Tried to do horrible things to me but Erik stopped him before he could go any further. They got in to a fight, Erik's mask was knocked off and Benoit managed to stab him because Erik was distracted. Of course, the few people that had gathered saw Erik's face... It's all such a horrible mess and it is my fault it happened." She cried, resting her head against her mother's shoulder who stroked her honey coloured hair soothingly.

"Shhh... It isn't your fault, my dear. People like Benoit are snakes. And Erik was just being Erik and looking out for you."

"Benoit is not the only snake." I muttered, curling my hands tighter around the mug in my hand. Everyone peered up at me in confusion until Madame Giry's countenance cleared.

"Ah, yes. We were wondering where you disappeared off to. What happened Christine?" Sighing, I leant back further into my seat and peered up at the slate grey ceiling, reminiscing of my nasty encounter with Raoul.

"Raoul took me away from the dance, to the ballet dormitories. He said he needed to talk to me in private..." I trailed off, thinking of the wicked fury that made my old friends face so... ugly.

"Talk about what?" Meg prompted, equally as invested in my story as her mother was.

"They've made some advancements in his brother's murder case. A witness came forward, described the attacker." Nadir wrinkled his nose in confusion.

"So... What does that have to do with you?" I sighed heavily and sank back into my seat even further until my head rested against the top and played with the tulle on my skirt.

"The murderer was loitering outside the opera house. He was tall, wearing black, had the voice of an angel..." I felt myself slipping off my seat so I straightened up and leant forward on to the table instead, saying in a steady voice, "He also had wild golden eyes... And wore a mask." Madame Giry blanched, her fingernails digging into the table beneath her.

"Dear God." She muttered. Nadir had a different reaction, as he banged his fist angrily on the table.

"No. I refuse to believe it. He made me a promise, back in Persia." Meg, slightly bewildered, looked from her mother to Nadir allowing the pieces to slowly fit together until she finally looked at me in alarm.

"Erik... Erik murdered Philippe De Chagny?" Finding that my throat was too dry for words, I merely nodded dumbly, knowing that this was the only way I was going to be able to protect Erik.

"No!" Nadir exclaimed again, pushing away from the table so quickly that his chair scraped harshly against the floor, making us cringe. "Why? Why would he go against his word like that? That double crossing leach, that-"

"Because he thought it was me!" I snapped, unable to hear my companion to be so quickly rounded on. At least it made Nadir silent as he retook his seat.

"What do you mean?" I chewed on the inside of my lip, looking at their horrified faces and angered at their quick distrust.

"They missed out a rather crucial aspect of Monsieur De Chagny's murder, and that was what he was doing in the first place to cause it. What, did you think that he was killed without a motive? Of course not! He's not as sweet as innocent as everyone made him out to be!" I proclaimed, slamming my hand down in the heat of the moment before taking a calming, deep breath in. "Listen... On the night of his murder, Philipe had cornered a young, innocent girl in the corner and was doing similar things to her as Benoit did to you earlier, Meg. Now, I like to think Erik would have sought her out to save her anyway but there is one detail that made him react like he did. He told me that the girl sounded like me, he thought that I was the one being... attacked if you will, by Monsieur De Chagny and he saw red. He snapped, something inside of him broke and he... Well you know what he did. Whilst I do condone his actions, I praise him at the same time because he saved the life of a young woman, it's just his moral compass is slightly... askew."

"Slightly askew?" Meg murmured, aghast. "Christine, he killed someone in cold blood! And we just saved his life?" I gasped in shock. Even her mother gave her a disapproving glance.

"How could you say that? He has saved your life more than once and has looked over you from the moment you could walk yet you sit here and wish for him to be dead?"

"I didn't mean it like that.." She huffed, hugging herself tightly, "I just don't think it's right. He doesn't have the right to play God and choose who gets to die.

"Meg, did you listen to anything I just said? He lost control of himself! It's not as if he wanted to, he just couldn't stop his anger taking over him." She rolled her eyes and huffed again, looking down at the table.

"Maybe he should learn to control his anger then." I heard her murmur under her breath, only making me even more upset with her.

"Meg, stop it!" Her mother exclaimed, but I ignored her. Slowly, I stood up, pushing my chair back against the flagstone floor so slowly that it sounded like chalk being dragged across a chalkboard and glared down at her. I had never been so angry with her in all my life and boy did she know it. I revelled in the fact that she was shifting uncomfortably in her seat and was trying desperately to avoid eye contact with me.

"Well, Meg, how about you try controlling your anger when all your life you've been treated as a _thing_ , as a _monster_ who was thrown in a cage when you were only eight years old and kept there as a sideshow freak for four years. How about you try and be kind to the world when all it has been to you is resentful and hateful, forced you to do things because of the way you appear. You saw the scars, how do you think they got there? By chance? No, Meg, it's because of the wicked people that Erik was forced to grow up with that made him who he is today. So, can you actually blame him for having trouble to contain his anger and hatred when all of his life that is all he has known?" I spat icily, making her pale considerably and shrink further down into her seat. She did not say another word.

"Christine... Please. Calm down." Madame Giry said softly, her voice soothing like a cooling trickle of a stream so I abided, sitting back down and completely ignored Meg's presence. I was too angry to even look at her.

"Even so, putting the whole aspect of murder aside, why does Raoul suspect you have something to do with it?" Nadir spoke up, wishing to push that previous episode behind him. I fixed him with a worried gaze, my anger seemingly evaporating like sugar in hot water.

"Erik called out my name when he went to save the girl. I guess Raoul put two and two together and now thinks it has something to do with the Opera Ghost, because apparently he is the only other man I spend my time with."

"Wait, Raoul thinks that the Opera Ghost killed his brother?" Nadir scoffed, running a hand through his ruffled hair.

"Well... Yes. Of course he doesn't know that Erik is the Opera Ghost but that is what he believes. He isn't going to stop until it is proven."

"Then what are we worrying about? No one is going to believe that ludicrous story, they'll think he has gone mad with grief."

"But how do we prove that Erik and the Opera Ghost aren't the same person?" Nadir cocked his head in sudden thought before shrugging.

"I don't know, but we'll think of something. Besides, we need to concentrate on Erik's health at the moment." I looked out of the door and into the parlour room at the mention of his name and sighed. Though I could not see him, I still felt his presence, even if it was weak like a flickering flame.

"Will he be ok, Nadir?" I asked in concern but Nadir seemed to brush the worry aside as if nothing bad had happened to his friend at all.

"He'll be fine, Christine. We just have to keep an eye on him, make sure his wound doesn't get infected. But I wouldn't worry too much about him, he's a survivor..." He seemed to still, as if a sudden thought had infiltrated his mind and caused him to stare at nothing in particular before he snapped out of it, "Besides, he's been through worse before and has come out just fine." He finished off weakly, clearing his throat when he realised how trapped his voice must have sounded. I thought back to the Rosy Hours of Mazenderan and shuddered.

"Yes... I know. I still worry though. It's fortunate that you are here though, Nadir. I must say I was surprised to see you." I murmured, taking a sip of my now cold coffee and grimaced at the taste.

"I visit Erik every New Years, just to sit in quiet celebration of another new year even though he loathes it. I knew he was out for most of the evening so I decided to head down later and I am pleased that I did." A silence overtook us then, not unpleasant but tense, especially with Meg throwing a huge sulk and refused to look at anyone. It got too much for Madame Giry and she had to take her daughter outside to give her a scolding. Meanwhile, Nadir cleaned up the cups and I drifted back to Erik's side, lying down by him and ran my fingertips across his forehead. He was sweltering, his forehead burning, so I ran a cool cloth over him, watching as his eyes screwed up now and then. His lips moved softly, as if he were talking in his sleep and every so often his hands fisted up the blanket over him before relaxing again. Another nightmare, perhaps. But it didn't matter, because when he woke up, I would be there for him, and I would remind him how much I loved him over and over again. Because he deserved it more than anything in the world.

 **I'm so sorry if it is rather short and the wait as well, it is unforgivable. But, I have been working on another story- "Life is a Beautiful Struggle' which I have got distracted with slightly and I can only apologise profusely. I forgot how much I loved writing this story and enjoyed this chapter so I hope you will as well. As usual, all rights go to Gaston Leroux etc and I don't own any of the characters. Please review! Thank you for all of them, I really do appreciate it!**


	36. Chapter 36

**So sorry about the wait! Here we go guys and as usual thank you so much for the reviews, it really means a lot!**

There was a blistering texture against my back. It felt like sand, though it couldn't be. I was nowhere near sand, wasn't I? The tiny grains were coarse and scratchy against my skin, but I could not move. When I opened his eyes, I was immediately blinded by a searing light, making me flinch in pain. What on earth was going on? Why was there such a stifling heat? Why did my legs feel like blocks of concrete? I tried to sit up, but there was a huge weight pressing down on my chest, one that made it feel like my chest was going to cave in any second. It was getting harder to breathe. Once again, I tried to open my eyes and was surprised that the sun had been blocked out by a large figure, who's shadow swathed me in a murky darkness. It took a while for my eyes to adjust but when I figured out who it was, I squirmed in panic. The figure looked down at me and grinned maliciously, a humorous glint in his eye.

"Well, well Erik. We meet again."

"No..." I managed to choke out, my throat dry as the sand beneath me.

"This time, I'm not going to let you go." The figure sneered, looming over me as he blew up to the size of 15-foot giant, pinning me down with one chubby finger. The kohl lined eyes bore down on me and pierced my soul. "I am going to make you suffer, just like you made me."

"NO!" I screamed as the figures came crashing down into mine, the last thing I heard being a hysterical scream of laughter as the horrid jade coloured eyes bore a sudden light and burnt me even more.

Finally, my eyes opened, sweat prickling my skin as I stared up at the oh so familiar grey cavern roof of my abode. I gulped in great swallows of breath, muscles shaking with fear and fatigue, not helping the pain that dully throbbed away across my belly.

"Erik?" A timid voice questioned and my eyes swivelled to see Meg sitting there, her knees tucked up to her chin and she stared at me in slight fear.

"M-Meg…" I choked, before letting out a few wracking coughs that left me groaning in pain. Meg was quick to leave before she returned with a glass of cool water that she aided down my throat.

"Are you ok?" She asked after a while, tucking a strand of her golden hair behind her ear.

"Just… Just a nightmare." I panted, shuddering at the thought of those eyes that had imprinted themselves on my mind. She did not respond. "Where is Christine?"

"Sleeping. She was sitting here for ages until I told her to go to sleep before she collapsed with tiredness. She could barely hold herself up."

"Oh… Ok."

"Would you like me to go wake her up?" Meg questioned, making to move before I stilled her in her movements.

"No… Let her sleep." A sudden surge of pain raced through my stomach and I hissed in pain, shifting slightly so that it lessened.

"Would you like some morphine for that?"

"No… Thank you Meg, but that would be a bad idea."

"Oh… Yes, I remember you mentioning that to Nadir. If… If you don't mind me asking, why are so reluctant to take it? It would lessen your pain considerably." She asked timidly, reaching for a damp cloth to wipe the sweat away from my brow. I flinched at her touch but allowed her to do it. After all, it did feel… nice.

"The scars… I… I took morphine to lessen the pain when I was in Persia. I was constantly in agonising pain because of the wounds that were inflicted on me. I got hooked and it made me even more of a monster than I already am. I don't want to return to that, or the memories. So… I just bite through the pain instead."

"Oh… I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's in the past. Anyway, I'm surprised your sitting here willingly when I am without my mask." Meg blanched and looked away in shame.

"I… I must admit it does frighten me. But, I've been here looking at it for a while and it's not so bad." I snorted and shook his head.

"It's ok Meg. I know I am hideous beyond belief; you don't have to be kind about it. The screams are enough to remind me of my place." Meg shrugged, pulling my jacket tighter around her shoulders, her eyes downcast.

"I… About earlier… I am so sorry, Erik. I've caused you so much pain and trouble. It's my fault your mask got knocked off."

"Meg, please. Don't worry about it. I would suffer through worse just to make sure that you wouldn't get hurt. Please… It was my honour." Her eyes sparkled with tears and she quickly rubbed them away with her sleeve.

"I thought you were going to kill him." She half laughed, though there was a seriousness in her eyes, a morbidity that made me think she knew I would have killed him if she hadn't of stopped me.

"I was close to doing so. I have no sense of self control when I am in a rage. It is the way I have been brought up, I suppose. I'm overly protective of the ones I love."

"Is… Is that why you killed Philippe De Chagny?" She probed, before looking away in horror. She couldn't believe she just asked that. My mouth dropped open, how on earth did she know about that? "Forgive me, that was impudent of me."

"How do you know about that?" I asked in a slight urgency, panicked that someone else knew about my despicable crime.

"Christine told me." She whispered sullenly, before adding, "Well she told all of us. Nadir, Mother and I."

"Why…?"

"She had her reasons. It's best if you ask her why, but you have my promise, as well as Nadir and Mother's that we will never tell a soul." I looked at her in surprise.

"Why would you protect me? I've killed a man…"

"Yes… I know. Whilst I condone your actions and honestly I think murder is one of the most despicable crimes out there, how can I turn in the man that has saved my life countless times before?"

"Meg…"

"A life for a life. I think that should make us equal now. Besides, Christine would never forgive me if I turned you in. She loves you far too much for that." She smiled slightly, brushing my brow again. I couldn't help but smile at that, my cheeks tinged with a heated blush.

"She… She really does love me, doesn't she? She wasn't joking around…" Meg gave me a stony glare.

"Christine would never joke around with such a serious matter. She's seriously in love with you, Erik. I can see it in her eyes. Besides, she can get so fierce if any one says a bad word about you…" She trailed off, lost in distant thought, perhaps from a sudden memory.

"I… That's good to know." Meg quickly looked at me with such intensity that I started at the fierce passion in her eyes.

"You love her too, right? You aren't messing her around? Because I swear on all things holy Erik, I will hurt you if you mess her around." I had to laugh at her frankness.

"Meg, I swear. I love her more than life itself. She is my heart, my soul. Without her, I am hollow." She nodded curtly and went back to wiping my brow, the only sound that rang around the cavern being the chime of the grandfather clock. It wasn't long before I slipped off in to the realm of sleep.

The feet of two men pounded against the cobbled street, both coiled inside with anger as they journeyed to the nearest tavern they could find. One had dried blood on his hands and shirt. The other was yet to question how it had got there. It wasn't long before they had opened the door of a heaving tavern filled with coarse, pig like men, gawking at the barmaid's breasts as they spilled over the top of her corset. The noise was indescribable, a hundred conversations mingled with the clanging of tankards on rough wooden tables, the great bellows of laughter that rippled through the walls as one old man fell off his chair in a drunken stupor. The bar maids rolled their eyes, bit back their tongue as acid remarks were shot their way. They buckled down to work. It was a job, after all.

"Two, and make it quick." Raoul snapped to a particularly buxom maid who gestured rudely to him once his back was turned. He steered Benoit to a corner where it wasn't so busy and sat him down, hissing to him to clean his hands as well as he possibly could. The bar maid came back over begrudgingly, slamming the tankards down so that their insides slopped over the rim and held out a pudgy, freckled hand as she glared down at him in anger. Raoul pressed some coins into her hand and waved her on her way, not in the mood to deal with creatures of the opposite sex this very moment. Benoit did not even say anything has he dipped a chunk of his cravat into the murky substance before him and rubbed away at the blood stains that speckled his hands.

"What did you do?" Raoul hissed, but Benoit merely shrugged.

"The freak deserved it. He was denying me my little… prize."

"What? I don't understand-"

"That Giry girl," Benoit interrupted nonchalantly flexing his now clean hands, though smears of blood lay here and there. "She was so… Beautiful. I had her in my grip. Then that freak came along and ruined everything." He sneered, gulping down a few swigs of his beer before crashing it down on the table.

"What freak?" Raoul queried, leaning in with interest as his friend glared fiercely into the muddy puddle of his drink.

"Your little Christine's companion. Did you know that under that mask is face that looks like a corpse?"

"Don't joke with me, Benoit. This is a serious matter."

"I am being serious." He jeered, scowling at Raoul, "His face… It was disgusting. His skin was like yellow parchment and had the texture of melting wax… No nose. Hardly any lips. Eyes like great black caverns with two eerie golden eyes that roared like a flame. He was a freak of nature, Raoul. A monster. And I slew him." He said with a satisfied grin, sipping at his drink.

"What did you just say?" Raoul whispered in horror.

"That I slew him?"

"No… About his face… That was the exact description that one of the stage hands gave me when I enquired about the Phantom…" Benoit groaned.

"Oh Raoul, you're still not chasing that old horse, are you?"

"But it makes perfect sense! He's close to Christine, cares for her, taught her to sing and-" Raoul choked out a gasp as it all came flooding together. "Christine introduced the man as her singing tutor… Not only that but he has the exact same face as the Phantom… He's real, God damn it Benoit, he is! I know it's true!"

"I guess when you put it that way… It rings true."

"Are you certain that you killed him?" Raoul asked urgently, startling his friend.

"I… Please Raoul, not so loud…."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, this whole place is crawling with vagabonds and murderers alike. Now tell me, are you certain?"

"I… Well no, he ran off before I could make certain that he was dead."

"Good." Raoul said bluntly, sipping at his drink with a cruel smile on his face.

"Remind me, how is that good?"

"Because, Benoit, I think we have just found our murderer. And I going to make him suffer just like he made my brother suffer." Raoul growled, before swigging back the bitter dregs of his ale and ordered another two. Tonight would be a merry night for them both.

 **I will try and update sooner, I promise! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, as usual, please leave your comments about what you liked/ disliked, I really appreciate it! Thank you again! I don't own any of the characters apart from Ben and all rights go to Gaston Leroux etc :)**

 **Much love x**


	37. Chapter 37

**I forced myself to write this late at night so I apologise for any grammatical errors, but I am too tired to check! I am sorry for the delay, just lacking motivation right now. I cannot promise that the next chapter will be up soon. As usual, thank you for the kind reviews, I really appreciate them! All rights go to Gaston Leroux etc and I don't own any of the characters apart from Benoit. Please review! I love reading your thoughts on this story. It keeps me going. Much love to you all!**

A few days passed. The Opera house was an empty shell, void of all bar the residents that lived in its dormitories. Rehearsals started the week after, so there was no need for anyone to be there. Of course, enquires were held and questions were asked. The group that witnessed the stabbing were called to the manager's office, where Benoit and Raoul waited, their plan precisely planned out which managed to fool the witless ladies and gentlemen. 'An extravagant prank' they had said, 'a planned out event set to make the night more intriguing and fun'…

"Is the man alright?" They asked, gesturing to their visage, "The one with the melting face?"

"Yes. Yes, quite. Another mask, not real. He's quite alright." They replied. Both of the managers seemed satisfied with their answers, though they were slightly annoyed that they had not been part of this prank. "Next year," Raoul told them with a charming smile, before excusing themselves for the day. Of course they did not mention Mademoiselle Giry. She was not even considered for questioning. Even Raoul had foolishly forgotten that she was involved. What a fool, missing out a key part of the evidence. It wasn't hard to see that she had been affected by all of this. She ghosted around the building all day, frightened of shadows that lurked in every corner. It made her realise how much she took Erik's presence for granted. She needed the Phantom right now. Right now, he was below in the cellars of the Opera House, unable to give her the protection she so desperately craved.

Benoit and Raoul found themselves in the bar where they had made their crucial discovery and were sat in the corner opposite four unsightly men who stared at them greedily. A fat sack of gold sat in the centre of the chipped table, stained with years of mead and foggy looking ale. Their fingers itched in their pockets, eyes utterly trained on the sack as their mind ticked away thinking of gold, gold, gold. Always gold. They craved it. It was the substance they lived it. It was like a poison to them, one that would slowly drown them in to the abyss of longing despair when it wasn't enough.

"You understand what you have to do, yes?" Benoit asked, looking at each man in well disguised disgust. Their stench was quite intolerable.

"Yes."

"Of course." They all muttered their own words of confirmation, barely grasping the plan that Benoit had intricately laid out but knew they had to be at the Opera House on the Monday of next week. Something to do with an Opera ghost, they weren't sure. But the money… Oh how it called them.

"Excellent. Remember, you need to blend in, so be sure to wash and find your cleanest clothes… If you have any." He added snidely, inching the bag further towards them.

"Yes, yes. Look clean, act sharp. Ask about the Phantom. Get information, we get it. We're not stupid." One sneered, rubbing the bristles of his beard with a liver spotted hand.

"Yes, become part of the crew. Be there on Monday at 7am. We'll remember, we'll remember…"

"Now give us the money!"

"Yes, the money!" They hawked, like vultures speeding down onto their prey. Benoit practically shoved it towards them, curling his fingers back into his hands as he watched them fight like petty children for control of the bag.

"Let's go, Raoul. Our work here is done." He murmured, pushing Raoul out of their seat so they could escape their squalid surroundings.

"Are you sure it will work? What if they don't fit in? What if they don't find anything?" Raoul pondered in worry, pacing across the cobbled streets back to the carriage. The night was young and the moon was a fat wheel of cheese dipping in the horizon. A crisp, cold air blew about them, stinging their hot cheeks as they pulled their coats tighter around their body. A frost had already begun to pattern the floor with its intricate designs, filling in the cracks of the pavement.

"Don't worry, it will work. Now quickly, back in to the carriage. It looks as if it could snow tonight… It certainly is cold enough." Benoit shivered, noticing the gleaming black doors of the De Chagny carriage just in the distance, urging his friend further on into the night.

CHRISTINE'S P.O.V

I left Erik, reluctantly, in my bedroom as I refused to allow him rest in that ghastly coffin of his, and travelled back to the surface. Rehearsals started today, my idea of hell as I wanted to be anywhere but, however Erik was incredibly insistent that I go back up and show myself. After all, I had completely disappeared for a handful of days and I didn't want to raise any suspicion as to my whereabouts. So, up I went, to my dressing room which was cold and musty from days of not being used. Flowers had curled into themselves, dying in the glass confinements so I quickly went about disposing them all and propped the door open so I could get some fresh air in before making my way to the stage. I had nothing of value in my room and I made sure the mirror was securely shut behind me, so no one would find anything if they did choose to snoop. As much as I didn't like to clearly invite people in, the room needed the fresh air desperately. Rehearsals were dull, nothing much occurred. I gained several funny looks, probably because of the whispers of rumours that had laced themselves in the very fabric of the building. Everyone had heard about Erik's face it had seemed, though many were quick to remind that it was just a 'prank'. Oh yes, I had heard what those two slugs had come with for an excuse and how it made my blood boil. We were dismissed in the early afternoon, much to my joy so I eagerly made my way back to my room. My joy quickly dissipated when I realised my light was on and someone had made themselves comfortable in my room. Sighing, I pushed the door open further to see Raoul sitting on my chaise longue, staring up at me in a new coldness that I found rather unsettling.

"Monsieur De Chagny, what are you doing in my room?" He shrugged and leant against the back of the chair.

"The door was open. If you didn't want people in, you should have locked your door." Huffing, I removed the white gloves I wore from my hands and placed them on a stand near the door.

"My room needed airing. It was not an open invitation for people to let themselves in."

"Well I am here now," He replied, making his way over to where I stood. I was quick to remove myself from his path which was a silly mistake as he closed the door and locked it. "And I have a few questions."

"Is the locked door necessary?" I probed, though my heart was racing a hundred miles a minute at the thought of being locked up in the same room with this… snake.

"We wouldn't want anyone walking in on our conversation, would we? After all, the context is most sensitive. You and I both know what happened that night, Christine."

"Yes, I seem to recall you cornering me in a room like you are doing now and hurting my arm." I scoffed, going to sit down in my chair to remove my hair from its uncomfortable bun.

"Not that." He hissed, moving closer towards me, "I am talking about that friend of yours. Our little 'prank'." I turned in my seat and glared at him in hatred.

"I remember with crystal clarity what your friend did to my dear tutor. He almost died, Raoul. Have you no shame?"

"So he is still alive… I had wondered if Benoit had managed to slay that beast."

"Don't you dare call him that." I hissed vehemently, standing up so that I was on the same level as he. "If anyone is a beast it is you and that snake of a friend that clings to your side like a babe suckling its mother." Raoul smirked and looked at the long mirror which connected my world to Erik's.

"You know, it's funny really. I heard what he looked like. Like a corpse. Imagine my surprise when I heard the Phantom had exactly the same features. Looks like Buquet is good for something."

"The Phantom is not real. You are listening to a man who dreams and thoughts are induced with whisky. I would not pay much attention to him." I warned, walking over to my door to unlock it. "Now kindly get out and leave me alone."

"You know, it's strange Christine. You used to be so sweet and innocent. How you have changed. It's almost like you've had someone influence you. A certain tutor perhaps." He got closer to me and glared into my eyes. "I am not stupid Christine. I know your tutor and the Phantom are the same man and I will go to the ends of the earth to prove it. Now, crawl back to your corpse of a lover whilst you can because soon he will be dead." He muttered with such venom that a chill crawled down my back, my hand quick to lock the door behind him as he stepped out into the corridor. I quickly gathered a few things and rushed to the mirror, unlatching the trigger. I had to warn Erik. We needed a plan, and fast.


	38. Chapter 38

**I am really sorry for not updating this story as much as I should. I appreciate the odd review that I still get though! I deleted the previous chapter I did as I wasn't happy with it and re wrote. I was in a much deeper frame of mind when this came to me and makes more sense than the jargon I published before hand. I hope you enjoy. A bit of fluff at the end for your patience. As usual, I don't own any of the characters and all rights go to Gaston Leroux etc. Enjoy.**

The tunnels seemed to blur into one as I hurried my way down to the underground lair, heart thundering away in my chest as I finally reached the place I had started to call home. Perhaps in my haste it took me a while to open the door, but once I did, I was overwhelmed with the stifling heat that had escaped into every crevice of the room and collapsed into the nearest chair in a faint. Nadir appeared from the kitchen, concern plain on his face as he hurried over to kneel by my side.

"Christine, are you alright?" He asked, watching me with his keen, hazel eyes.

"Fine… Fine. Just hot." He didn't seem to believe me and only left my side to fetch me a glass of water that I accepted gratefully. "How is Erik?" I asked as soon as I finished my glass, placing it on the coffee table in front of me.

"Sleeping, at the moment. Other than that, as well as he can be." The displeasure of him being asleep must have passed across my face as Nadir's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"You're hiding something from me, Mademoiselle Daae. You forget, I used to be a detective in my home town so there is no use hiding anything from me." Resigned, I sat back in my seat in exhaustion as the day finally took its toll on me.

"You are right, Nadir. I was confronted by Raoul earlier."

"Again?" He asked in disbelief, taking seat next to me as I closed my eyes in tiredness.

"He is awfully convinced that Erik and the Phantom are one and nothing I say will make him think otherwise. He told me he will go to the ends of the earth to prove to everyone the imposter in our midst." Nadir scoffed in amusement.

"It's all very well saying it but proving it will be incredibly difficult seeing as Erik is all the way down here and the Vicomte is all the way up there." At this I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling, wondering where Raoul was at this moment, pounding the street above me.

"It still doesn't stop from me from worrying, Nadir. What if he comes across this place, what if he finds Erik and kills him? I cannot live with that thought." Nadir seemed to ponder this for a while, brow creased as he stared at nothing in particular across the room. We sat like that for a while, both tired from the onslaught of the week until suddenly, he stood up and hastened to the kitchen. Confused, I watched after him but did not make to move as my whole body felt like it had been pumped with lead. I did not want to move anywhere. It didn't take him long to reappear however and I was glad I didn't waste the energy to follow him.

"This could be our answer to our problems, Christine!" He said excitedly, waving a flyer in his hand. He handed it to me with a flourish and eagerly awaited my opinion though I must admit, it took me a while to truly focus on what it was saying.

 _ **Wanted: Creative Director for the Opera Populaire.**_

 _ **Must have excellent communication skills, an eye for the arts and a basic training in classical arts is preferred.**_

 _ **Must also have standard understanding of Orchestral Conducting and extensive background and knowledge of music.**_

 _ **It also required that you understand**_ _ **the principles and theories behind music composition.**_

 _ **Please enquire within for more details.**_

I stared at the flyer in my hand for a while, not quite comprehending its words whilst Nadir looked at me expectantly, a smug grin on his face.

"Well?" He asked, impatiently and I stared at him as if he had just told me that there was a bird sitting on my head.

"I am afraid I don't quite follow." Nadir held out placating hands and sat down opposite me, his stance eager as he leant forward to tell me his plan, whatever it was.

"Ok, hear me out. What if, when Erik is well enough to of course, but what if Erik applies for the position?" I blinked at him slowly.

"Pardon?" Was all I could say, his words a mangled mess in my mind.

"Why don't we get Erik to apply for this role? He'll probably get the job, especially if he bribes them and whilst he is busy being director, I can pretend to be the ghost! Or Darius could… Either way it will convince Raoul that Erik and the ghost aren't the same person!" I felt that the tiredness had truly taken hold of Nadir as his wild eyes glinted in the candlelight. Were we really thinking of the same person here?

"You think Erik, a person we both know hates society as a whole and who I could barely convince to come to the ball with me, would actually apply for this job?" Nadir spread out his hands in a gesture of uncertainty.

"It's worth a shot, Christine. At the moment, this is the only plan I can offer you to protect Erik."

"I know, I appreciate that, but there must something more… Erik." Nadir gave me a long look, before walking over to where he had left his jacket and shrugged it on.

"My dear, believe me, from previous experience… Erik's plans never work out the way they should." He then checked his pocket watch which seemed to make his eyebrows shoot up in surprise as realised how late in the day it actually was. "Goodness, that late already?" My eyes lazily roamed over to the small grandfather clock that was kept next to the fireplace and nodded dumbly. "Christine, I need to go run a few errands, do you mind if I leave you?"

"No, not at all." He nodded in thanks and hastened towards the door shouting out, "I will see you shortly!" For a while I remained in my chair, allowing the events of that night to fully wash over me. It seemed all so bizarre, how Raoul practically threatened me in the dormitory whilst at the same time Erik was acting as Meg's hero. I thought over Nadir's plan and couldn't see how Erik would possibly ever agree to such a situation, but then considered if I explained what had happened to me that night, he'd reconsider. I also thought it odd that I hadn't seen any of the flyers posted around the Opera House but perhaps in my dazed state, I hadn't paid much attention to my surroundings. So, I gathered up whatever strength I had and made my way to the room where he slept, in my bedroom which we had moved him to the day previous. It didn't seem right to make him sleep on the floor of the parlour room and we all agreed he'd be comfier on the bed, but that didn't stop him from cursing at us as we manoeuvred him through the hallway.

The door barely made any sound as I opened it, just the soft brush of wood against carpet and I was met with the unbearable sensation of heat. Nadir had left the fire roaring in the small, stone fireplace as well as blankets heaped over Erik who looked utterly dead to the world and I wondered how he hadn't melted there on the spot. Erik's normally ice cold skin was actually now warm to the touch but his skin was still pallid, apart from the blush that had spread across his forehead. I took my seat in the chair pulled up next to him, pouring a glass of water ready should he wake up soon, though Nadir did not specify how long he had been asleep for. I had never seen him look so peaceful, for when he was awake, he always looked like he had the world's worries on his shoulders. His brow was smooth, lips slack and face relaxed so that his deformity did not seem so menacing as it could be. I ghosted my finger across his arm that lay prostrate on the bed, porcelain skin with thin lines of indigo blue running throughout until they were obliterated by the angry red lines Erik had done to his skin all those nights ago. I was surprised that Nadir didn't choose to mention anything about it, but then thought perhaps damage like this would be no surprise to him and that he chose to turn a blind eye. After all, it hurt me that Erik could easily slip into the mind-set that enabled him to cause himself so much pain. My finger must've accidentally wavered as I got nearer for I brushed his sensitive skin ever so slightly, yet it was enough to jolt him awake. He was such a light sleeper and I watched him look around in alarm before his eyes landed on my face. He seemed to calm considerably when he realised it was just me in the room for he gave me a crooked smile, his eyes glowing warmly.

"Hello."

"Good evening. Sorry for waking you up." I murmured, slipping my hand into his which he seemed to grasp immediately in a tight grip as if to check I was actually there, before he lessened his hold.

"Don't worry about it. It wasn't a good sleep anyway." He shifted in bed and grimaced.

"How's your wound?" Erik shrugged.

"It doesn't feel infected so fine, I guess." I hummed in approval, placing my elbow on the bed so that I could rest my head in my hand.

"Nadir did a good job." At the mention of his name, Erik pulled a face and I tutted in disapproval. "He did. You can't deny it."

"I'm always owing that old man favours." Erik grumbled, running his thumb over my knuckles.

"Because he cares about you. You should've seen the determination in his face to keep you alive that night."

"I know. He's a good soul that one." I nodded in agreement and rested my eyes for a moment, enjoying the warmth and the pressure of Erik's hand against mine. "You're tired." He said, more of a statement edged with concern.

"It's been a hectic week." Was all I replied, re opening my eyes to find him studying me intensely, worry plain on his face. "I need to talk to you about something."

"Might this have something to do with Meg knowing about the murder by any chance?" I could see he was a little perturbed that someone like Meg would know about something so delicate but knew now was my chance to mention Raoul's behaviour towards me that night.

"Yes. I wouldn't have told them if I didn't have to, you know that." He did not say anything but motioned me to go on with a slight inclination of the head, his eyes set on mine. "They know about the murder because of what happened on the night you got stabbed."

"You disappeared." He mumbled, shifting his focus to our entwined hands.

"Because Raoul took me away by force. He led me to the dormitories where he knew we would be alone and undisturbed because he said he needed to talk to me about something." Erik's grip on my hand tightened and looked at me alarmed.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" He demanded, and I shrugged.

"A little. He gripped my arms a bit too hard but nothing too serious."

"Nothing too serious?!" Erik spluttered angrily, his face darkening from the rage that slowly burned within him.

"Erik, please. It is fine. I am here. I don't want you getting too worked up and making your wound worse."

"But"

"Please, just listen," I implored, carrying on with my story before he even had the chance to protest, "He apologised for his behaviour over the last few days and then told me he had made some advancements in his brother's murder case. You see… A witness came forward with details and information of that night. Details that Raoul linked to me."

"How…?"

"Because of the description of you. It might have very well been some stranger and Raoul wouldn't have thought twice of it but it was because you shouted my name. Raoul thinks the opera ghost is a real person… Well in fact he thinks the person that I introduced as my tutor that night, you, and the opera ghost are the same person... Which granted, they are, but that is information that Raoul is not privy too and is also information that Raoul is determined to use to uncover you." Erik scoffed, sounding a lot like Nadir and relaxed back into his pillows.

"He will never find me."

"But what if he did?" Erik gave me a dubious look, refusing to comment on such a preposterous assumption. "Erik, I know Raoul and he will go to the ends of the earth to find you. He will not rest until you are behind bars and will do anything in his power to get to you. And he has a lot of power. How are you not concerned about this?"

"Christine, I live 5 cellars worth of depth underground plagued with tunnels that have traps in every nook and cranny. He will not be able to find me." He was right of course and I frowned in frustration at his words, when I had a thought that could possibly sway his mind.

"What if… What if he threatened the Giry's?" Then I realised that this thought could possibly become a reality and panicked suddenly, "What if he threatened them? Forced one of them to take him to your home, what then?" He frowned at my words so I decided to twist the knife further, "What if he threatened me?" At this, Erik balled his free hand into a fist, the other tightened its hold around my own.

"He wouldn't dare."

"This is what I am saying, Erik. It could happen! If we could do something to prevent this from ever occurring, I wouldn't worry as much as I am now." I emphasised, reaching forward to brush a lock of his dark hair out of his face. His eyes fluttered at the touch and his head leant in to my hand so I moved from the chair to the bed and lay down next to him, on my side so that I could play with his hair more. He looked at me in surprise as I lay close to him.

"Christine, should you really...?"

"Oh propriety be damned. It's just me and you, underground. No one will know." He smirked mischievously before he carried on with the subject on hand.

"What would we do to prevent it?" I removed the flyer from my pocket and handed it to him, wondering if he would have the same reaction as I did.

"Nadir came up with a plan." Erik groaned, flipping the paper over and back again to see if any information was withheld from him and studied it once more.

"Nadir's plans never work out the way they should. I know that from previous experience." I couldn't help but giggle at the statement, it was so typical of those two to say exactly the same thing about each other. He heard my giggle and turned his head, his frown breaking into a soft, confused smile.

"What?"

"He said exactly the same thing about your ideas." Erik smirked, turning to study the flyer once more.

"Let me guess. He thinks I should apply for the position?"

"Yes." I murmured, moving my hand to trace my fingers across his forehead. "That way, you can't be Director and Opera Ghost at the same time. If Nadir pretends to be the Ghost, all we have to do is make sure something happens when you're in the same room and then that way, it should completely debunk Raoul's theory that my tutor is the ghost. Then he can chase someone to blame." Erik was quiet for a while, chewing over the idea.

"Let me get this straight. You want me, someone who has no interest in human activity and loathes them entirely, to start helping them? To go above ground where I am most at risk and pretend to be someone I am not?" I lifted my head, kissed his temple and breathed in his musky scent, nuzzling my nose in to the crook of his neck.

"That sounds about right. You could wear that flesh mask of yours." When he stayed silent, focusing on the fire before him, I turned his head by his chin and gazed into his troubled eyes. "I know it's asking a lot of you and I completely understand if you want to think of something else but… It's all we have at the moment and we're running out of time. I cannot almost lose you again, Erik. My heart cannot take it." I realised how close our faces were to each other and felt his warm breath tickle my face.

"I know. I know you're doing this to save me and I appreciate that but-"

"Erik, I am doing it to save us. I want a future with you. I can't have one when your buried underground." He gave me a funny look and I rolled my eyes, "Physically buried. Dead. Gone. I don't want that. I want you and me, together, with no one to bother us, to live out a life where we won't have to worry about stupid Vicomte's hunting you down."

"You really do want to spend the rest of your life with me, don't you?" Knowing that words wouldn't be enough to sway this stubborn mule of a man, I inched forward so that my lips were close to his.

"Forever." I whispered, gently pressing my lips against his, eyes half lidded with desire that I had done what I had wanted to do for a while. Erik's I noticed, widened with surprise, shocked at the contact and when I pulled away, he stared at me for a very long time. I couldn't help but giggle at that.

"What?" I laughed, brushing my thumb against his lips which were smooth to the touch.

"I… I just love you so very much." It was he who initiated the kiss this time, our lips glided smoothly over one another, both eyes closed with pleasure. I felt my ears turn red at our intimacy and I am fairly sure Erik's whole body flushed from the amount of heat that radiated off him until he pulled away, gazing at me with such adoration that I felt my heart melt.

"I'll go ahead with the plan, Christine. If it means more moments like this and less of you worrying over my wellbeing, then by God, I will do it."

"Thank you." I whispered, kissing the corner of his lip so that we didn't get to invested in another kiss, I did not want him to over exert himself. We lay like that for a while, forehead against forehead, breaths mingling as we allowed the warmth to wash over us. My eyes fluttered shut as sleep tantalised my brain so I wriggled down, snuggling into the crook of his neck once more and rested my hand upon his chest. He reached one arm underneath my head and then moved his other hand to where mine rested upon his chest and took it in his grasp before resting his head atop of mine. We both fell asleep within minutes, our heartbeats thudding away in a harmonious beat all alone in Erik's underground kingdom where for once, I felt utterly safe lying in the arms of the man that I loved.


End file.
